


The Eating Affair

by TempusNoKitsune



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Animal Instincts, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Biting, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Praise Kink (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Dom/sub Undertones, Gentle Dom Aziraphale (Good Omens), M/M, Marking, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Other, Possessive Aziraphale (Good Omens), Possessive Crowley (Good Omens), Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Resolved Sexual Tension, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Sort Of, Strength Kink, Sub Crowley (Good Omens), Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens), changing genitals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:00:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 29,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24782725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TempusNoKitsune/pseuds/TempusNoKitsune
Summary: Reguardless, he licks his lips, wiping away the yolk crumbs before going to bite the next one. He’s got his teeth halfway through it when his phone begins to ring. He chomps down on the egg until it seperates and the other half falls to his chest. He chews angrily.“What?” He bites out, only slightly muffled by the food in his mouth.“Crowley! It’s me, Aziraphale.”Crowley all but spits out the egg, sputtering and coughing, body wired and suddenly terribly warm all over.Insp by that post about someone's lizard: The reason he’s not eating is likely due to him entering breeding season earlyCan you imagine someone handing you a burger and you being like “I can’t eat this I’m too fucking horny”
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 171
Kudos: 650
Collections: Courts GO Re-Reads, Top Aziraphale Recs





	1. The Insighting Incident

Crowley reclines back along his couch, sprawled lazily along the sleek black lines of the furniture. The TV is turned up loud, and his fangs show themselves as he smiles during an action scene. He kicks the foot nearest the floor against the Turkish rug there, the sole of his sock passing by in a static-y rub. Gun shots ring throughout the space and the reflection of a mushroom cloud plays in his eyes. 

To be honest he’s not that invested in the film itself, he just wanted something on as he aimlessly scrolled through his phone. He reaches down beside the sofa, and pulls a boiled egg from a rather large bowl just sitting there. It’s easy to pop into his mouth and he can get just the one down in one gulp if he wanted to, but this time he bites it in half before swallowing each piece. 

He’s been eating eggs like this as a snack for hundreds of years now and can, if pressed, boil the perfect egg the human way. Currently, he has about 2 dozen on hand and has already eaten half in the past 30 minutes or so. It’s just been that kind of day. 

Sometimes he’ll eat other things, but often his snake nature takes over and he ends up eating any meat he purchases raw rather than cooking it, so now he tends to order in or take a trip out to get the prime cuts. He once tried a steak subscription but hated the plastic taste that seemed to seep into the muscle and decided to stick with going all the way to Kobe Japan if he wanted Wagyu beef. It’s part of why he knows some passable Japanese. 

Reguardless, he licks his lips, wiping away the yolk crumbs before going to bite the next one. He’s got his teeth halfway through it when his phone begins to ring. It startles him from his scrolling and he throws the phone up a bit before fumbling to catch it and answering instinctually. He chomps down on the egg until it separates and the other half falls to his chest. He chews angrily.

“What?” He bites out, only slightly muffled by the food in his mouth.

“Crowley! It’s me, Aziraphale.” 

Crowley all but spits out the egg, sputtering and coughing, body wired and suddenly terribly warm all over.

“Oh, are you alright?” The light voice calls out, and Crowley tells himself he doesn’t need to breathe and that he spit out everything. He’s not choking. He has to respond.

“Angel.” He rasps out. 

“Are you okay, dear?”

Crowley squirms against the couch before finally sitting up and brushing all of the egg off of his torso before just miracling the mess away. He takes a couple of deep breaths, hyper aware of how hot his face is and how it's spreading down his neck to his chest. 

“Yeah, sorry. Just, was drinking some wine while laying down and you know how it goes.” The lie rolls easily off his tongue, it’s not the first time that he’s used it. 

“You think that you would learn not to do that after the first time.” The angel teases. It brings a bit of a smile to his face and he berates himself for his tenseness, though he still balls up his fist against a thigh.

“Not with wine. Never with wine.”

Aziraphale gives a little laugh that sends chills running up Crowley’s back and his fist squeezes. 

“What’s up, Angel?”

“Oh, I just wanted to call and see how you feel about lunch tomorrow?” There’s an excited jump to his voice that makes Crowley smile even as his knuckles are turning white against his black jeans. “There’s this new little cafe just outside of Mayfair and I met the owner just the other day. She was so lovely and she’s French, Crowley! Can you just imagine the quality of the food?”

He breathes out a laugh. “Sounds good to me. Pick you up at noon?”

“Lovely, yes that would be wonderful, thank you.”

“I’ll be there.” Crowley hopes fervently that this will be the end of the conversation, sticking his tongue out of his mouth and wishing he hadn’t just been eating as he squirms uncomfortably against the couch.

“What have you been up to today, my dear?”

“Ah, um. Not much, honestly.” He shifts around a bit more. “Went out for a bit to grab some things but mostly slept. What...er, what about you?”

“I opened the shop today. Thankfully only a couple of customers came in and none we’re more interested than just in passing.”

“S’good.”

“Indeed it is. I was also able to get some chocolate croissants from the bakery down the street.”

“A good day then?”

“I would say so!”

“That’s good.” He takes a deep breath and blows it out his mouth. “I ah...I’ve got to go, angel. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Oh, yes.” There’s a bit of disappointment in his tone and Crowley nearly tells him that he can spend a bit more time, but as he still squirms against the sofa he realises that it’s not a good idea. Wrong place wrong time. Aziraphale sighs and gooseflesh rises on Crowley’s arms. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Crowley.”

“G’bye.”

“Goodbye, dear boy.”

Crowley holds his breath until the line goes dead and all but chucks his phone away from himself. It lands with a dull thud, knowing better than to shatter. He tries to take a few big breaths in and out but the shudders continue down his body. He’s incredibly frustrated, because while, of course, there is always a thrum of arousal where Aziraphale is concerned, usually it's just something normal. Something that he can push down and ignore. But no. He had to be eating food at the time. When that wave of arousal hit and he had the food in his mouth it just set off all the wrong things, and now he’s got to go off and have a furious wank before he can even think clearly again. 

He squirms uncomfortably before rocking to his feet and shifting himself in his pants with a hiss.

There’s a short moment as he’s leaving the room that his eyes catch on his bowl of perfectly boiled eggs and he allows a moment to mourn them before snapping them into the fridge in a fit of hopefulness before nearly cantering to the bedroom. He knows it’s going to get away from him. May as well be comfortable.


	2. Lunch

It’s nearly 11:30 and Crowley is still squirming uncomfortably in a pair of black silk pajamas. He knows because he set an alarm for the last time before he needed to leave to go pick up Aziraphale. His body is hotter than it ought to be and his shirt is left open, though the fabric is nice and cool against his skin. Ultimately there is nothing left to do but roll himself off of the bed and miracle his clothing on in a quick switch. It’s far more uncomfortably restrictive than it usually is. 

His body tells him that he hasn’t eaten nearly enough before this, but now he can hardly even think about eating. He’s always so careful about eating around Aziraphale, something that he learned to do the hard way in Rome. It’s happened only a handful of times since then, but every time is just as bad, if not worse, than the rest as his feelings grew in depth. 

Crowley gives his shoulders a roll before hitching them back and leaving his flat to make for the Bentley. He knows better than to think it’s just his imagination when the car takes over the hard steering functions. Perhaps the low level gratitude he feels is evident, perhaps not, it’s really not at the forefront of his mind, but if anything knows him, aside from Aziraphale, it would be the Bentley. 

He pulls up along the curb beside the bookshop and the Bentley turns off on its own as he opens the door and pats it gently when he hears it lock behind him. The sign in the window of the entrance has been flipped to closed. Crowley wills the front door unlocked and leans heavily against it after stepping inside. 

“Angel!”

“Just a minute, Crowley!”

Crowley nods to himself and lets his head fall back. The glass is overly cool with the biting chill from outside. It’s soothing in a way and frustrating in another. When he hears Aziraphale’s oxfords clicking on the wooden floor he pushes himself up and forward trying his best to look alert and not like his body is overheating and battling with itself. 

“Hello dear!”

Aziraphale looks beautiful. He always does in some way, but right now he’s almost glowing. Crowley shudders but shakes it off quickly. 

“‘Lo, Angel. Ready to go?”

“Oh, yes. I’m terribly excited!” His enthusiasm is visible not only in the bright smile and rosy cheeks, but a faint ethereal aura that Crowley usually has to strain to see. 

He opens the door and holds it, just avoiding the intrusive impulse to slam the door in his own face a couple of times. 

The Bentley welcomes Aziraphale in like he belongs there, and Crowley can’t really blame his car, because he has no arguments. The angel wiggles happily in his seat.

“I’m terribly excited for this. I’ve been thinking about it all day!”

“Hope it lives up to the excitement.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will. I’ve never known the French to make any bad food.” 

Crowley makes a noncommittal grunting sound as an unfounded and ridiculous wave of jealousy washes over him. He growls at himself. One, why in the world would he be jealous of food, and two he could never compare. His inner snake hisses back at his growling and he nearly swerves onto the sidewalk, jarring him back into reality. 

They sit quietly until he’s able to find a parking space miraculously close to the little cafe. It looks quaint and actually rather authentic from what he remembers. He hasn’t been to France in the last decade so it may be a bit more kitschy than the real thing, but he’s suitably impressed so far. Not that he’s planning on actually eating anything. 

Aziraphale claps his hands together as they walk up and Crowley makes sure to open the door here for him as well. The angel’s eyes twinkle at him as he walks by and his stomach flutters. Crowley doesn’t really listen as they’re led to their table and given menus, but his eyes stick on the minute contact between the server's hand and Aziraphale’s on the pass. His instincts scream at him to bite bite bite bite bite. With millennia of practice on this particular instinct he’s able to push it down. 

He floats through the majority of the meal as he usually does, reclining in his chair and watching Aziraphale with his ultimate and undivided attention. It’s all comfortable and familiar and smooth sailing until the waiter has to switch out before Aziraphale orders something sweet. This shouldn’t have been an issue, but the new server seemed a bit more...keen on the angel than they ought to have been. 

The waiter sidles up to the table, normal enough, but leans close over to Aziraphale as he drops off menus. Hardly sparing a glance at Crowley while smiling sweetly at the angel. Something bubbles up. Something dark and jealous and possessive and he grits his teeth together hard, fingers digging brutally into his thighs. The heat emanating in a slow pulse through him increases in temperature rapidly, though for a much different reason. 

He wants to strike out. Lean up and snap his elongating fangs. Hiss and cover Aziraphale’s body with his own. To make circles and show off his claws and fangs. 

For many good reasons he cannot do this, and so his nails begin to pierce through his jeans. No reason he can’t glare fiery hell daggers as the waiter walks away though, which is exactly what he does. 

“-or the dark chocolate flour-less torte?”

Crowley shakes out of it and stumbles over his thoughts a bit trying to see if his brain had caught any of what the angel had just been talking about. Of course, it hadn’t, but thankfully it wasn't terribly difficult to parse out.

“Ehm, why not both?”

Aziraphale gives a surprised hum and looks over to him with sparkling eyes. 

“Why not, indeed. Good idea, my dear.”

He breathes out a quiet sigh and tries to relax a bit, slouching down further in his seat and slowly working to loosen his grip on his legs. Sliding down a bit has stretched the fabric of his jeans more and makes him aware that the crotch is a bit tighter than it was before and he tries to subtly adjust himself, willing his face not to turn red. Sometimes he wishes that he didn’t have enough mind to be so cognitively aware to be embarrassed and ashamed of all of this, though he knows that he’d rather have his wits about him than be all instinct. 

When the waiter comes back Crowley shifts to a straighter stance in his seat and leers at him relentlessly. If there’s a bit of a demonic influence in that look then who can really blame him. 

The angel orders his desserts, this time not needing to be oblivious to the ogling looks he’s getting because there are none to be had as the server is far too unnerved to do any more. 

“And the check.” Crowley follows up as the waiter turns away. He sees the man nod stiffly before walking very quickly away. The monster inside of Crowley purrs in satisfaction.

“Thank you dear.” 

“‘Course angel.” He rumbles, and though he wants to slide back down his instincts won’t allow him to shift out of his stiff and more imposing new stance. At least as imposing as his thin structured noodle body can be. He snorts to himself at the thought. 

Aziraphale carries the bulk of the conversations during dinners, and doesn’t seem to mind. He always has plenty to talk about and Crowley really likes to listen to him talk. He doesn’t always take in the information exactly, but he still enjoys listening to it. Aziraphale’s voice is smooth and melodic and very much fits his stature. 

When the dessert comes it’s a different waiter that brings it, which feeds the possessive fire in his belly and allows him to slouch slightly to better lean forward and enjoy watching the angel eat his dessert. The check is placed in front of him and he nods without looking at the server before slipping his credit card out of his pocket, after a subtle snap, to slide it in the small folder. 

Aziraphale wiggles as he takes a bite out of what looks like some sort of fruit tart, which must have been the other dish that he was asking Crowley about earlier. Both of the desserts look picturesque. Higher caliber than he expected for a small cafe to be honest. It’s making the angel so happy that he very much approves. 

“Good, angel?” He somehow gets out, though his tongue feels a bit larger than usual and his mouth terribly and overly wet. 

“Oh, yes!” There’s some moving around and then a forkful of chocolate torte is held out in front of his face. “Have a taste.”

Crowley is briefly stunned. This was something that he was very much not expecting, and so his mouth drops open in obedient response. The angel does this silly thing with his face where he opens and closes his own mouth along with Crowley as the demon is fed. The luxurious and rich chocolate taste blooms over his tongue, but it’s the focus of Aziraphale’s eyes on his mouth and the fact that he is being fed, that has the focus turn from the complex bitter sweetness of the torte to his hot and heavy thick, rumbling, possessive arousal. 

The moment is quickly broken when the server comes and runs the card, wishing them a good night. Crowley slowly swallows and licks his lips as Aziraphale blinks and sits back, his cheeks tinted a very fetching pink as he tucks back into his desserts with a renewed single minded vigor. He eats fairly quickly, which is very unusual for Aziraphale especially in a new restaurant. 

When it then comes to standing up Crowley is very deliberate in his movements while also trying to keep up his usual laid back swagger. Thankfully the former tent in his jeans has settled back down, enough that there’s no more than the usual bulge in his tightly stretched jeans. 

“Ready, angel?” 

Aziraphale makes a harried humming noise, wiping his mouth delicately as he stands up. He shifts around on his feet and Crowley nods his head to the doors.


	3. Chapter 3

The drive back to the book shop is far more tense than the drive to the cafe and if Crowley weren’t utilizing both of his feet in driving one of his legs would be jiggling relentlessly. Aziraphale is still, aside from the routine anxious twisting of his hands that tends to happen when Crowley is driving, and his face is turned away and toward the window. When he pulls up along the curb and cuts the engine he’s not exactly sure what he’s expecting, but for the two of them to just sit there and do nothing is not it. 

He shifts and the leather squeaks beneath him which seems to break Aziraphale out of whatever trance he’s in.

“Thank you for the lovely meal…” There’s a pregnant pause. “I was rather hoping you would like to...continue into the evening?”

Crowley blinks at him from behind his glasses. “If you’d like.”

The angel's mouth twists up a nervous smile. “I would.” There’s a pause again and Aziraphale looks out through the windshield as though there’s suddenly something very interesting in the road. 

They both begin to speak at the same time, try to yield to each other, and ultimately Crowley is made to go first. 

“So you want to...go inside then?”

“Oh well-” There’s a small choked off sort of noise that the angel tries to cover with a cough. Crowley knows him too well for that. He just raises his eyebrows and waits.

Aziraphale squirms. “I was hoping you might be amenable to me coming over to your flat?”

Now it’s Crowley’s turn to choke. Aziraphale has never asked to come to the Mayfair flat before. It’s always been an unspoken thing that they only go to the bookshop. The one time that they’ve been there together was very much a special circumstance, and they were both far too preoccupied to actually enjoy any time there. 

“Wha-” He gurgles out a few elongated syllables. “You’re always welcome if you want.” He doesn’t mean to say it as quietly as it does, but he can’t quite help it, it just slips out that way. He’d give Aziraphale anything he wanted, anything he can, and this is something that’s all too easy to offer. 

The angel perks up almost instantly, blue eyes taking on a sparkle as he finally looks back at Crowley. “Really?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Well then-” He grips the steering wheel hard as he realises what that means. Having Aziraphale, in his home, in his...well, nesting space, is going to do nothing but bad things for his ongoing _problem_. His voice is likely an octave higher when he speaks again, but thankfully Aziraphale doesn’t comment. “Let’s head on shall we? To mine?”

“That would be wonderful.” The angel all but gushes, still nervously toying with his own hands but so noticeably happy that Crowley grips the leather of the wheel until it creeks before pressing down on the gas. The gears grind for a moment before he quickly shifts them, and Crowley thinks there’s no better sound to describe how he’s feeling at the moment. 

He knows that he doesn’t even remotely obey the traffic laws, as per usual, but this time the angel makes no comments at all. In fact, for the majority of the ride he can feel bright eyes focused on the side of his face. They’re burning hot and he tries to subtly readjust himself in his seat. Uncomfortably nervous at the scrutiny but also embarrassingly aroused as well. This is really not how he should start out his inevitable edging tonight. It’s both far too soon and far too little. 

Crowley pulls up along the front doors of the apartment building. Of course it’s not really a spot, but it is for the Bentley. At this point he supposes that the security humans are so used to seeing it there with no issues that they just leave it be. Whatever the reason, he has a perfect out front spot, and throws the car into park a bit more forcefully than needed. 

“It’s been quite a while since I’ve been here.”

Crowley chokes out a cough. “Ehm, yeah. No threat of dying this time though” 

Aziraphale lets out a breathy laugh and looks over his shoulder. “I should certainly hope not.”

Crowley can’t help but smile back. Getting out of the car is a bit more fumblingly awkward than usual. It can be clunky to get out of the Bentley at times but Crowley’s always found it easy to play off as not being a problem, but now he’s more than incredibly nervous. So much so that his hand misses the door the first time that he goes to close it. By the time that everything is locked up and he’s finally walking over to the doors Aziraphale is waiting patiently, his hands tucked up over his stomach.

Crowley knows that his face is warm and pink, at the very least, and he hates it. 

“You’re in the penthouse, yes?”

He shoves his hands as deep as they’ll go in his tiny ladies jeans pockets- if he’d know he’d be wearing them all the time he would have never let that man make them so small in design -and walks up to get the door to open. “M’yeah. Top floor.”

Aziraphale looks up slightly as he moves to walk inside. “How many floors are there?”

“Why don’t you ask the elevator?” He teases lightly, making a large sweeping motion to the elevator as the door slides open. 

The angel just gives him a look, exasperation and mild annoyance but not truly. He makes a show of pushing the top button, giving a pointed side glance at Crowley who just snickers back. The familiar back and forth helps ease the tension and nerves flowing between them.

Crowley shuffles just a couple of feet behind as they walk up to the jarring red door to his apartment. 

Blue eyes round on him expectantly.

“It’ll open for you.”

Crowley gets a moment to see the surprised look on the angel’s face before he turns and easily pushes the door open. 

The flat really hasn’t changed since the last time that they had both been there together. It’s as generally clean and stark as usual, with a slight overflow of plants now. He’s wondering just how long it’s going to take for Aziraphale to regret asking to come here tonight.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gone back in and re-edited some the previous chapters for some minor errors. I apologise if there's ever any little issues, as I'm the only one editing and proofreading this.  
> Buuuut, it happens  
> Enjoy some more snek struggles

“Do you want to give me a tour?”

Crowley raises an eyebrow at him. “Do you need one?”

The angel shoots a slightly mischievous and very playful smile back his way and a full body shiver runs up and down his spine. 

“Or did you not do enough snooping the first time?” He tries coolly, and he’s lucky that it comes out as evenly as it does while his hormones and instincts kick up hard after their slight lull. The angel, _his_ angel, is in his home, his nest, his _den_.

“I do not snoop.”

“You do so.” Why is it so bloody hot in his flat?

“Hm, well.” The angel tries for disapproving, but the sides of his mouth are twitching so he falls short of that. “I certainly wouldn’t mind being shown where the wine is.”

Crowley waves his hand in dismissal. “You go sit, I’ll bring it in.” 

While the kitchen isn’t completely secluded from the rest of the flat, it’s far enough away that he has some semblance of privacy. It’s not much but it gives him the space to purposefully smack his head into the cabinet a couple of times before actually grabbing a random bottle of red. It lands hard on the granite countertop, upon which he also bangs his head before letting his forehead rest on the cool surface for a moment. A brief respite for the warmth radiating through his body.

He still has to grab a couple of glasses, but his patience is wearing quickly, so he just miracles them up instead. His hands shake as he holds them, enough that he has to put them down and brace himself back on the counter. Crowley tries to take a deep breath and breathes out through his teeth in a quiet hiss of air. It doesn’t help nearly as much as he was hoping. 

This is bad. This is so bad. His tongue darts out over his lips and he's suddenly struck with the overwhelming scent of Aziraphale. While it would have been far stronger in the bookshop, it’s so much worse to be permeating his home. Mixing with his own scent. Making it a proper nest. A growling noise bubbles up out of his throat unbidden and his hands tighten on the granite so hard that it creaks in complaint. 

“Fuck.” He hisses.

He tries for another deep breath, lets the angel’s scent seep in through his skin and sit on his tongue. His body is hot, vibrating with tension, his teeth are sharper, eyes blown yellow side to side, and his trousers are decidedly tighter than they were when they first walked in. 

“Fuck.” He says again and leans forward to bang his head against the cabinets once more, with feeling. 

It’s a function of pure stubbornness and spite that he levers himself back up and snatches the glasses and bottle, clenching his teeth until he rounds the corner into the living area. Aziraphale is sitting primly at the very edge of the couch, flipping through the large art book resting on the low coffee table. 

Blue eyes flutter up to him and he’s granted a small smile. Crowley struggles with himself as another warm gurgle bubbles up, but this time something pleased at the attention. It’s this odd mixture of preening satisfaction and infernal possessiveness. The angel looks beautifully out of place. A bright spot among a sea of grays and blacks. 

Aziraphale blinks at him and he realises that he’s just been standing there with his chest puffed out for far too long, and spurs himself into motion. The glasses hit the table a bit too hard, but wouldn’t dare chip or shatter. 

“A Super Tuscan alright with you?” He manages to grate out, hoping it's disguised in his struggle with the cork.

Aziraphale lights up and gives a small wiggle, and while normally this would just cause a flood of fondness at something so cute, now his stomach flips and that stupid over-proud happy thing rumbles in him again. He thinks he’s really probably going to have to get used to that for the night. Satan bless it.

“Oh, it’s been ages since I’ve had a Super Tuscan blend!” 

Crowley is finally able to pour them both a hefty glass and falls ungracefully onto the other side of the sofa. It’s a relief to not have to hold his weight anymore, but now they’re back in relatively close proximity which is doing questionable things to his sanity. He takes a couple of large sips and lets the wine take over his senses for a bit. 

Things become quiet and they simply sit there for a few minutes. Just comfortable silence between them as they enjoy their wine. Surprisingly it gives Crowley a slight break to reign in his body's reactions and tamp down on his instincts. It’s a bit easier when he doesn’t have to divide his attentions, but still incredibly difficult given that the distinct scent and taste of Aziraphale is just _right there._

When Crowley lets his glass touch the table again it’s empty, and in between breaths Aziraphale is suddenly right there next to him, heat radiating off of his body, as he pours Crowley another glass. He didn’t have to scoot or lean in as closely as he has, which means that he really thought about this. The angel intentionally got closer to him, enough so that the scent of him was overwhelming, so that the warmth and shape of his body is so close that Crowley can almost feel how their bodies would fit together at the side. His mouth feels over wet, his tongue too big to fit. His body is hot, hot, hot, hot hot hot- or maybe Crowley is the one thinking about this too much.

The blonde leans away slightly to refill his own glass and Crowley is so busy staring at how close together their thighs are that he’s caught by surprise when the angel gives a little fake cough in prelude to speaking. Snake eyes blink owlishly at him behind the dark of his glasses.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I wanted to come over to your flat.”

Crowley just blinks at him a couple more times, the words taking longer than usual to settle in. He picks up his wine glass again and takes a small sip, trying to ground himself. Luckily he usually becomes a bit slow when he drinks, so it doesn’t seem to raise any flags to the angel. 

Crowley makes an over-loud and somewhat dramatic smacking noise after swallowing. “Well, you could colour me curious.”

Aziraphale makes a little humming noise and watches as he swirls his own wine around in the glass. Crowley squirms in his seat, wincing as the seam of his jeans rubs against his growing erection, but this time with no conveniently placed table to hide it. He closes his eyes for a moment before a sudden thought comes to him. Why not just get rid of his effort completely? Sure he may still have a low level arousal pooling in his belly, the heat, and the other fun things like possessiveness, but he wouldn’t have to deal with it coming to fruition, making itself known, or continuing to make his head so foggy and preoccupied that he can do nothing else but focus on trying not to completely pop a stiffy in full view of the object of his affections.

It’s worth a shot, so he breathes out a quiet breath into their tense silence and wills it away. Instantly things are just a bit easier. The arousal curls back upwards and sits more near his chest. The protective and possessive need to have eyes on Aziraphale is incredibly intense with the loss of a facet of the issue and his eyes snap back open to take everything in. His hands itch to remove his glasses so that he can have a fuller and uninhibited line of sight but he knows that he needs that tried and true barrier.

Aziraphale looks up at him and gives him a gentle smile. “I do have to admit it wasn’t completely without ulterior motive.”

Crowley opens his mouth to respond only to snap it closed again when his effort, this time the Eve aligned set, pops into existence without his say. It’s a lightheaded rush of blood back south and he chokes on his own spit for a moment. 

The blonde continues talking, seemingly not having noticed Crowley’s new predicament. Aziraphale isn’t actually totally oblivious to his surroundings, not usually unless it’s done in some part willfully, which means he’s thinking hard and carefully about this. That, in turn, means that it's important, and Crowley really needs to be able to follow this. At least with this particular effort his trousers won’t sport an obscene tent, but he’s not sure that the feeling is any better. Only one thing for it, grin and bear it. Metaphorically, obviously. Any grin from him right now would come out as nothing more than a sharp toothed grimace. 

There’s an uncomfortable little laugh and Crowley crosses his legs and forces himself back into the moment. Aziraphale isn’t looking at him, but back at his wine, twirling the stem nervously between his fingers. 

“I realise that sounds maybe a bit alarming…perhaps it is? I don’t really know.” His voice tails off, dying out at the end, and shit, that protective feeling roars to life even more. It’s taking over everything else, and Crowley knows that he shouldn’t, doesn’t really mean to, but ends up putting his hand lightly over the angel’s knee. 

Underneath his hand the flesh gives perfectly and it's so, so nice and warm, but for the first time since being in the Bentley, Crowley feels more in control of himself. Concern winning out over arousal. The protective monster in him whines unhappily at his angel’s discontentment. 

“‘S alright, angel. You can tell me anything you know.” His voice comes out a bit more gravely and lower than it would have usually, but _bless_ , he hopes Aziraphale is too preoccupied to notice that bit. 


	5. Chapter 5

Aziraphale turns wide eyes on him, his whole face softening as a gentle but strong hand lays over Crowley's own. 

“Thank you, dear. I suppose I’m getting in my own head about this a bit.” Crowley just barely holds back a purr at the endearment and slow brush of Aziraphale’s thumb over his knuckles. “It’s just, quite a big step and I’m not terribly sure how to go about it.”

The hand holding is really making things more difficult. Physical contact means that there’s a point to narrow down on. It also means that Crowley is the closest that he’s ever been to Aziraphale, and that is really not a thought trail he can afford to go down right now. He presses his thighs together to try and relieve some of the pressure, though the action only serves to provide minor friction and ramp up the hot arousal. Sharpened teeth bite down unforgivingly into his tongue.

It’s at this point that he tears his eyes away from their hands only to see that Aziraphale’s mouth is moving, and his face is doing that pinched worried thing.

Crowley tries to play it off. “Hm?”

“Are you alright dear?” Is the immediate response. The angel gives his hand a little squeeze and Crowley whimpers.

“I’m-” He starts and scrabbles frantically for something, anything. But with an overflow of physical and instinctual input his mind comes up short. “No.” He whines finally.

“Oh, I was worried you weren’t well! You’ve been acting a bit oddly since dinner.” The hand over his own squeezes again and Crowley closes his eyes hard before blinking them open again.

“N’yeah. S’okay though.”

“Crowley,” The angel’s voice is disapproving and stern, which makes Crowley squirm for more than one reason, “You know that being able to tell one anything goes both ways, yes? You can trust me as well.” 

“Hrk-” Is the only thing that comes out of his mouth. What is he supposed to say to that? 

Aziraphale using his words against him isn’t really a new thing, but bless it, usually he could get out of it. A well placed diversion or quick witted change of topic could do wonders, but right now he can’t even think properly. His hand is on Aziraphale’s knee, and Aziraphale’s hand is on his hand, and their thighs are touching and Aziraphale is close enough that if Crowley just leaned in a little bit more then he could probably even feel Aziraphale’s breaths against his face. Thinking about that really doesn’t make it any better.

“Crowley, you’re shaking!”

He makes a slightly alarmed noise before cutting it off and trying to play off the up note as questioning. He hadn’t noticed that his hands, or body in general, had begun shaking at all. It’s not really surprising since his awareness has become so pin-holed to their places of contact and the abject heat at his crotch and in his chest. So much of him is now dedicated between being so incredibly and terribly horny, and overwhelmingly fond. There’s no space for logical or processed thought. 

“‘M I?”

“Yes! Oh darling, I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything earlier, but I was very much under the impression that you were trying to keep whatever is going on to yourself. If I knew it would get this bad I would have just brought it up regardless.” 

“Ngh nah, ‘s really fine, angel. Just need-” To touch you, feel you. Get your warmth, keep you safe, feel your body against mine, under mine, over mine. Your hands on my bare skin so- “a good sleep’s all.” _Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck_.

“Are you sure?”

Crowley is wholey unprepared for the angel to lift his hand and press it gently against Crowley’s forehead. It’s a very human gesture and Crowley melts into it just as much as if it were a caress of his cheek. 

“Crowley, you’re absolutely burning up!”

Oh that would be a wonderful in for a demon joke, it really would, but Aziraphale’s hand is still on his face. He’s a bit surprised that he hasn’t spontaneously combusted at this point. That’s not a complaint, though, if he were to discorporate now it would be more than an actual veritable hell trying to get another corporation...if he could at all. Again, not nearly as important as Aziraphale touching him, now with both hands.

“Tell me how I can help.”

That’s a bad question. That’s a very bad question. What’s he supposed to say. He can’t just yell out _fuck me_ , like he’s dying to. It’s a near thing, a very near thing, especially as the angel continues to sit there and look at him so earnestly. 

A whimper eeks its way out of his throat and he has to close his eyes against those beautiful blues. 

“My dear, you’re obviously in pain. Please let me help you.” With this the hand on his forehead gently cascades down to his cheek, cupping around it lightly. 

Crowley lets out something that gets dangerously close to a sob before he gains enough control to twist it into more of an uncomfortable garbled noise. “Hngkh...you can’t.”

“That’s nonsense.” 

He makes another incoherent noise. 

“Crowley.” The tone demands he open his eyes, not that Aziraphale can really even see them. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

It’s not often that Aziraphale uses such a commanding voice. It’s obviously something that he _can_ use, he’s a guardian angel after all. A born soldier and leader at his baser core. The tone makes Crowley shiver. How is he supposed to resist? And so works come tumbling out.

“Mmn I ate some eggs earlier, which is really just a thing that I do. Probably the snakey bit, not gonna lie. But at least they weren’t raw- that was a low point, for sure. But I ate them, and I do that some times, you know, eat. Not bad, eating, just, y’know...anyway you called and then the thing happened. The stupid thing because I couldn’t be bothered to check my caller ID, and it’s-”

“Darling, please slow down. You’re not making any sense.” Aziraphale squeezes the hand sitting over his own knee, and runs the thumb of his other hand gently along Crowley’s cheek bone. 

Gooseflesh rises over his arms. 

“I didn’t realise you ate at all!” The angel comments lightly, giving a sweet smile and obviously trying to make him feel better. Unfortunately it only serves to stoke the ebbing and flowing fire. He knew he was going to edge himself tonight, but Satan this really was torture. 

“Mhm.” He manages to hum out. It doesn’t sound exactly as it should but it’s close enough that the angel takes it as a proper go ahead to ask the clarifying question Crowley knows he’s going to get. 

“I’m having a hard time seeing the issue here, dear. You were eating and then I called. I don’t see how this could be causing you so much pain.”

Crowley just wants to cry now. Well he also really wants...something else, but crying is very much at the forefront as well. Enough so that his eyes are stinging, and he digs the nails of his free hand into his thigh, hoping that the pain will ground him, distract him, do bloody well _something_. 

“Crowley?”

“I don’t know how to explain this!” He nearly sobs out. He’s frustrated in his own lack of control. Embarrassed at how much his instincts and hormones have taken over. 

The hand covering his finally leaves and he’s afraid for a moment until it joins the other to bracket his face. He pulls his own hand away from Aziraphale’s leg hoping it will cool the heat running through his veins and nearly letting out another sob when it does nothing but make his possessive need to grab and have and take and claim, ramp up more. Now both of his hands are digging deep into his thighs as they can, their sharp nails likely drawing blood, not that he even cares, so much now focused on Aziraphale gently cradling his face.


	6. Chapter 6

“Take a deep breath, darling. You don’t have to rush. I’m not going anywhere.”

That’s rather part of the point, Crowley thinks. He knows that he’s losing control of his careful composure, if he hasn’t already, and can feel his lips starting to twitch and tremble. If he doesn’t get out something now, he may very genuinely start crying. Which may be altogether worse than actually telling Aziraphale about his predicament. However, thinking of that only serves makes him more anxious.

Therefore, instead of actually saying anything Crowley just lets out a low whine and squeezes his eyes shut. 

The fingers on his cheekbone stroke back and forth there gently. It makes his face feel all tingly and sends little shivers down the back of his neck.

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

He lets out another whine and squirms uncomfortably. The movement makes his thighs rub together and he can't help the breathy little noise that escapes him. Aziraphale must take it as a noise of pain based on the sad almost cooing noise he makes in response.

“I’m sorry, dear. Is there anything I can do to make it easier.”

_ Please don’t ask that. Dear everything, please don’t ask that. _

“No. I just…” He can’t just come out with it, but he’s having an incredibly hard time putting it together in a clean and coherent way. These whole last few minutes have been a veritable mess of thoughts that don’t quite make sense or get cut off and scrambled just before they can, and then it strikes him. “It’s a snake thing.”

“A snake thing.” Aziraphale parrots back, obviously confused as to the correlation.

Okay maybe he needs to give a little bit more than that, but it’s as good a start as any. 

He opens his eyes, but looks off to the side like the gray walls will give him the answers he needs. All that comes out is- 

“A snake mating thing.” Great. Yes. Good.

“Mating?” The fingers on his face still and he blinks back into focus on Aziraphale’s face. He looks even more puzzled than he sounded. Crowley kind of wants to yell at him.  _ You’re smart angel, please figure this out!  _ Of course, while the angel is, in fact, terribly smart he can also be so very, very dense. 

“Mating.” Crowley says again like it's going to help clear something up. “Like a…”

How to make that more clear. Mating is the right word, he decides, but that means that his brain has now begun to shut completely down again after spitting out that one word. It’s clearly not enough to get them where they need to be for Aziraphale to understand and Crowley flexes his hands again hoping that the small spike of pain will help give him at least a short moment of clarity. Needles to say it does a bit of the opposite, which he should have seen coming with his mile wide masochistic streak. 

His brain sticks on a small loop of  _ snake, snake, snake _ . Then switches over to,  _ angel, oh pretty angel, close angel, sweet angel, gorgeous angel _ . And then another small breakthrough.

“Heat!” He all but yells out. Aziraphale's eyebrows shoot up while Crowley’s mouth twitches up. It takes him a minute or so to realise that he needs to connect that as well but he still accepts it as a light triumph. “A snake-like heat. I-”

Of course it’s then that realises just how embarrassing it is that this whole thing is, in fact, like a heat. Becoming unbearably horny and hot, only able to be assuaged by a proper seeing to. Unfufillingly so as it consisted of his own two hands and a growing collection of toys. 

He makes a gurgling noise before pushing himself to finish. “That’s the best way of explaining it. A heat brought on by a mixture of the food and your voice. Please don’t ask for more I...don’t think I can do more.”

Aziraphale blinks at him, and Crowley notices that a blush is beginning to form on his cheeks. It’s both adorable and incredibly hot that this is somehow getting the angel hot faced. Crowley finds himself leaning in a bit more without realising it, feeling the rising heat radiate out toward him. He lets out a long shaky breath. 

“You’re in heat.” Aziraphale repeats slowly back to him, and Crowley gives him back an absent grunt. “Oh…Oh!”

Crowley focuses his best on trying to breathe as he waits for Aziraphale to pull away from him. To explain how he has to leave. Crowley stares into those blue eyes even though he knows that he has them memorised already. Could still see them in perfect clarity if he closed his eyes. His stomach clenches and he bites down on his tongue as he feels the wetness between his legs begin to spread to his upper thighs and soak into the crotch of his trousers. 

“Your discomfort is stemming from a biological imperative to mate.” Aziraphale states. Crowley hums in affirmative, though it may come out more as a wine. “How do you usually assuage it?”

Oh no, he absolutely cannot answer that question or he will surely discorporate on the spot. He just makes a garbled noise and tries to look away from the angel’s face, but finds that he can’t. His body wobbles a bit with the effort to stay up straight. Aziraphale is just so close, his body heat permeating Crowley’s skin, his hands gently encasing his face, his voice sending waves of heat through Crowley’s body. 

After a bit of Crowley not responding Aziraphale moves on. 

“Darling, do you want me to leave?”

Crowley’s face pinches up. No he really doesn’t. Yes, it would be better and safer for the both of them, but Aziraphale leaving would mean that their scents would no longer mingle, he wouldn’t be able to feel the heat from Aziraphale’s body, hear his voice-

“No.” He whimpers out. “Please don’t leave.”

Aziraphale shushes him gently. “It’s alright, I won’t.”

There’s another pregnant pause, the hands on his face begin to move more, fingers now reaching back to gently trace along the sharp edges of his jaw, up in front of his ears, down below them. Crowley couldn’t stop the shivers if he wanted to. 

“Let me help you.”

He nearly chokes on his own spit. “You- I- wha-huh?”

“Oh, lovely.” Aziraphale’s face is bright red now, but there’s a determination set in his face that Crowley knows means he’s already set his mind to something. “Let me help you, dear boy. You can’t be comfortable like this.”

“You don’t-”

“I know I don’t have to, Crowley. Would it be so difficult to believe that I want to?”

“I-” This was the last thing that he expected really. Wanted, dreamed of, fantasied about? Yes. But expected to happen? Far from it. 

“If you don’t want me to, please let me know. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable or take advantage of you.”

Crowley absolutely does not squeak. Nope. Not even close. 


	7. Chapter 7

It takes him a moment to actually get any coherent words out, though he does a rather good impression of grinding gears for a few seconds before he gets there.

“You wouldn’t be- I mean I..wouldn’t that be me, of you?” Not quite all there but close enough.

Aziraphale blinks at him, processing like an old computer. 

“ _ You _ taking advantage of  _ me _ ?” There’s a light huffing noise and the heat coming off of Aziraphale’s face is so blessedly tangible. Crowley tries not to sway towards it too much. “I’ve wanted to touch you for ages, dear boy. It’s no skin off my teeth to be of service to you. However, you’re rather compromised, are you not? I would never want to take your choice away.” 

Crowley chokes on his own spit and the motion teeters him forward enough that he bangs their foreheads together before jerking back.

“You what?” He cries out, several octaves higher than normal. One of Aziraphale’s hands has moved from his face to rub at the spot on his own forehead where they had impacted. 

“Sorry?”

He sputters again, spitting out random syllables. 

“You? Touch? Me?” It takes a minute in total to say, but by that time the angel is no longer concerned with he new small red spot on his head. 

“Yes. Well since the 1700’s, I think.”

Crowley makes a noise that could plainly be described as that of a dying cat. 

“Me want? You- I...you want? Me?”

Aziraphale lets out something like a snort. It would be unbearably cute if Crowley weren’t currently dying. 

“Oh, Crowley. I don’t know how I couldn’t want you.” 

It’s said with so much genuine conviction and paired with such an open and loving expression that it’s about as much as Crowley can take. He surges forward, connecting their lips roughly enough that they pinch uncomfortably between their teeth. Aziraphale makes a small noise of surprise, but instead of pulling back, pushing him away and saying this was all some sort of cruel joke, he uses the hand on Crowley’s face to gently tilt it to the side. Now their lips slide together much more easily. It’s warm and soft and wet and Crowley can’t hold back the pitiful moan that bubbles up. 

When Aziraphale pulls back Crowley follows him desperately. The angel just smiles against his mouth, pressing a slow kiss to his bottom lip.

“You really are so far gone, aren’t you my dear?” A thumb comes up to pull at the same lip that was just kissed and his mouth parts, wanting to take the finger in his mouth so badly. Unfortunately, it just passes over teasingly. “If you’ll allow it, I’d love nothing more than to take care of you.”

Crowley immediately nods enthusiastically, enough so that his head rips out of Aziraphale’s hand and leaves the blonde laughing lightly, like the tinkling of bells. The image is slightly ruined by the concerned pinch that draws between his eyebrows.

“That's lovely, darling, but I really need you to say it aloud, and we’ll need to talk about this later.”

“Mhhng- yes, yes. Please just- yes!” 

Aziraphale laughs again, though this time a bit more freely. 

Crowley whines and tries to push forward for another kiss, only to be held back. It shouldn’t be hot. It shouldn’t be hot at all with the frustrating and bone deep heat pulsing through him but  _ Satan _ , it is. The angel is hardly touching him, but is holding him back easily. 

“Be good for me, darling boy.” 

_ Oh-  _ “ _ Fuck, yes. _ ” He breathes, eyes widening almost comically behind his glasses as all of the hairs on the back of his neck raise up. The buzzing feeling that comes from those words is promptly broken up by the next question.  


“May I take off your glasses?”

Part of him wishes he could say no, keep up that last sliver of defense, but he knows he can’t. Especially with the fondness in those blue eyes. They might as well just be twinkling. They could be, Aziraphale is an angel after all. 

Crowley hums a low affirmative, but can’t keep himself from closing his eyes when they’re pulled from his face. He can hear the pieces click together as they’re folded up and deposited on the coffee table. 

“Please look at me?”

Crowley makes a pained noise and closes his eyes even tighter. 

“It’s alright, darling. I’ve got you.”

Ah yes, lovely. The burning at the backs of his eyes has returned with a vengeance, albeit for a different reason, but it’s back nonetheless. He knows that as he opens his eyes they’re shining and watery, and he hates it.

“There you are.”

And there it goes. A couple of tears slip over the edges and tumble down his cheeks. Aziraphale doesn’t make a big deal of it, just lifts his hands back up and uses his thumbs to gently brush away the drops, smearing them softly into the hallows of his cheeks. It’s unbearably sweet, and Crowley both wants it to end and to revel in it, but his body seems to think that he’s gotten enough of a break and a strong wave of liquid, molten desire pours in through his veins. 

“Please, Aziraphale.” It comes out quiet, but no less obviously wanting.

He’s not quite ready for the way that the blue eyes pinning him down darken. His stomach does a little flip.

“Don’t you worry darling. I’ve got you.” The angel’s voice has somehow started to drop down, and Crowley bodily shivers at that, pressing his thighs fruitlessly together. The hands that were gently cleaning his face are suddenly moving, one sliding back to tangle in his hair and another dropping down to dig into the back of his neck. Crowley arches helplessly into the sensation, letting out a small noise as fingers press hard enough to leave bruises. 

“Angel-” He grates out, only for his hair to be pulled on and head tilted back as said angel leans forward to press kisses up and down his jaw. The angle is a bit awkward, and he wants nothing more than to scramble up and slide himself over into Aziraphale’s lap, but he’s a mix of terrified to overstep and very obviously not in control. 

He breathes harshly out of his nose as the kisses slowly trail down his neck. The hand in his hair doesn’t have to pull for him to tilt his head back, but it still does, just lightly enough to be a question while still exerting that delicious sharp feeling all along his skull, and he moans quietly at the feeling. 

“Darling,” Aziraphale says against his skin. Crowley’s breath catches a bit at the airy quality to his voice, which is a blatant confirmation that his angel isn’t unaffected by this. It’s a fear he wasn’t quite conscious of having, but is nevertheless relieved to have quelled. “You’ll have to tell me if it’s too much. I-I’ve wanted this so much-” There’s a small break as Aziraphale just breathes against his neck. “We’ll use colours, alright? Do you think you can do that?”

Crowley blinks a couple of times, squeezing his eyes shut tightly and then opening them again to try and center himself. Through the now ever more increasing haze of arousal he can recognise the careful question of consent and would smile if he had the mind to. Later he’ll also have the chance to be incredulous over the fact that Aziraphale knows what the light system is.

“Yes, angel.” 

Aziraphale lets out a sudden breath, wet and hot. It’s sin incarnate, the feeling of it against him. Although get back to him on that one, as it may have lost it’s place to...some other things if they continue to go in this direction.

Suddenly the gentle lips on his neck turn into the sharp sting of teeth and Crowley can’t help but writhe and gasp in the angel’s strong grip. He’s so stuck in the push and pull of new sensations that he doesn’t notice Aziraphale has moved up next to his ear until he speaks directly in it. 

“Perhaps we should get you more comfortable, darling?”

Crowley just whines helplessly. 


	8. Chapter 8

“Is that a yes?”

Crowley goes to nod enthusiastically only to have his head held still by his hair. The point gets across with his breathy moan and increasingly restless wriggling. 

Aziraphale hums lowly and lets out a huff that sounds both amused and aroused. He presses kisses to each of Crowley’s cheeks, and then one just at the corner of his mouth. Crowley’s lips part and if he could turn his head to capture Aziraphale’s, he would. The hand from the back of his neck begins to move while the one in his hair keeps him carefully still. 

“You’re so warm.” Aziraphale says against his lips, and scratches lightly at his scalp as his moving hand runs gentle fingers down his shoulder.

“Mmgh. ‘S the heat.” That’s the word they’re going to have to go with, it’s much easier to say than anything else, and Crowley also doesn’t nearly have the wherewithal to actually say more than a handful of garbled words at the moment. 

“Oh?” The angel begins to move his lips, kissing up one side of his jaw to his ear and then slowly starting to move down his neck, interspersing the kisses with light nips that have Crowley’s body giving embarrassing little jerks. “It doesn’t happen otherwise? Perhaps I’ll have to see it for myself, hmm?”

Crowley whimpers. The thought that Aziraphale would want to do something like this again not only has his sex pulsing between his legs, but also his heart beating faster than before. 

“Yes, I rather think that’s a good idea,” The hand on his shoulder slips down his arm and then onto his thigh. “But I suppose for right now we ought to live in the moment.”

Strong fingers squeeze his mid thigh firmly, and Crowley can feel Aziraphale’s lips turn up into a smile against his collar at the squeaking noise he lets out. The hand slowly goes after each of his own, unlatching them from their death grips. They hang uselessly in the air, clenching and unclenching on nothing and wanting somewhere to reattach. 

“Come here, lovely.” The hand moves again, this time it’s not alone and the one in his hair leaves as well. They both move down and curl around under his thighs to heave him up and over onto his lap. 

Crowley feels like the breath has been punched out of his lungs. Aziraphale moved him like nothing, and not only that, now he's straddling the angel’s soft thighs. Their chests only inches apart, and their crotches even less. He realises that he’s effectively frozen in place, chest thundering and breathing stopped.

“Colour?” 

Crowley blinks and lets out a long whooshing breath, jump starting at the question.

“So fucking green.” He nearly hisses, hovering his hands awkwardly between them. His palms are sweaty. It’s been a while since he’s had such sweaty palms. Well it’s also been a while since his body’s been running this hot, and the nerves certainly don’t help any. 

Aziraphale smiles at him and rubs up and down his outer thighs a couple of times before moving his hands up to bracket Crowley’s hips. Crowley presses forward into the thumbs resting there. He shudders as they take his motion as a plea and all of the fingers dig in and hold here. It’s not very painful, but just enough to send delicious points of pressure through him. He wants it to be harder, wants to have Aziraphale’s fingerprints bruised into his skin. 

Aziraphale leans up and captures his lips again. It’s a gentle kiss and Crowley just melts forward into it, his hands finally settling on the angel’s shoulders and rubbing the crushed velvet under his fingers. When he feels a tongue brush his lips it’s hardly even a thought to open them to the wandering tongue. His entire body is tingling.

He’s never been with someone during one of these “episodes,” it’s only ever been himself and his hands, and sometimes a variety of other objects depending on the intensity of the situation. This is by far one of the worst ones he’s experienced, due to their proximity, and yet it's also looking up to being the best one, again due to their proximity. Crowley absently starts grinding down into the lap beneath him, sliding his hands back to sling his arms around Aziraphales neck and tilting his head to push the kiss deeper. He doesn’t so much hear as feel the small noises that he’s making in the back of his throat. 

The heat moving through his body is approaching unbearable. He can’t control the shudders wracking through him, or the fact the noises he’s making are both rising in pitch and volume. He rocks back and forth desperately, plastering himself against the angel’s chest. 

Aziraphale pulls away, and when Crowley tries to follow him he removes a hand from where it’s been moulded to his hip, and presses it into Crowley’s chest. There’s no doubt that his heart is beating quickly and heavily enough to be felt against that solid palm.

Aziraphale is panting, and the look of arousal on his face makes Crowley shudder violently. “We should move.”

His voice is lower than Crowley has ever heard it, and he keens, pressing purposefully into the hand holding him back. The angel smiles at him.

“You do make such beautiful noises, my dear boy. I can’t wait to hear more of them.” 

“Please please please.” Crowley begs, nearly sobbing. He thought it was bad when they were kissing, but it’s agonizing now that they’re not doing anything. He feels like the molten heat inside of him is sloshing around, burning at his insides, making his skin sensitive, pooling in his stomach and at his groin, and making his head fuzzy.

“Oh lovely, don’t worry,” Aziraphale’s hands move again and this time they’ve slid back to his thighs, which tense and untense at the gliding touches. “I’m going to take care of you. Hold on to me.”

There’s no time to ask what that means, not that Crowley is sure he can string together a sentence anyway, before Aziraphale’s hands slide under his thighs just at the join between them and his arse. He lets out a little squeak as the angel stands and hikes him up into a proper hold. Crowley’s arms tighten around the blonde’s neck and his pelvic floor muscles spasm. If his legs were pressed together at the moment he’s sure that a new rush of wetness would have smeared between them. 

“Where’s your room, darling?”

Crowley takes a deep breath in, and drops his head to nuzzle into Aziraphale’s neck, inhaling his scent greedily. “Down hall, left.” He mumbles brokenly against the skin there.

“Thank you.” The angel replies, sounding rather pleased as he carries Crowley effortlessly.

His room is a bit different from the rest of his flat in that it is one of the very few obviously lived in spaces. The furniture is different from the sleek modern pieces elsewhere. Instead there’s a king sized bed in the middle of the room, covered in black Egyptian cotton sheets and an overly fluffy comforter which matches the overflow of pillows at the head. On either side of the bed there are small side tables in a rich mahogany. There’s a lamp on each of them, as well as a few tiny succulents. There’s an oversized dresser against the opposite side of the room, and across the way from the door that leads into the en suite bathroom. There are large windows all only partially covered by heavy blackout drapes. 

Of course, neither of them are looking much at the room right now, and Crowley still has his face wedged between Aziraphale’s chin and collar. His arms and legs are wrapped in a constrictive vice grip around the soft body supporting him, though the angel hardly seems to mind. He hisses as they tip down, clinging tightly even as his back hits the bed surface. It’s probably quite awkward for Aziraphale, but he can’t bring himself to care as he squeezes and loosens and squeezes and loosens and starts to rub himself mindlessly against his angel. 

There’s a low rumbling hum that reverberates from Aziraphale’s chest into his own. 

“ _ Angel _ -” he keens, drawing out the word in a mewl. 

“Shh.” Aziraphale starts to pull back, and though Crowley’s grip is strong, Aziraphale is stronger. 


	9. Chapter 9

Crowley is pinned down, flat on his back with his arms gripped tightly and held up by either side of his head. His chest is heaving with his heavy breaths, and he’s arching towards Aziraphale with the fervor of a man possessed. Which would be ironic if he weren’t so far gone not to care in the slightest. He makes small pleading noises. Short of actually speaking, but plainly vocalising his need. 

“Darling, I can’t take off your clothes when you’re pressed against me.” Aziraphale chides lightly. 

Crowley continues to strain upwards. “Miracle them.” He grates out.

The angel hums, and gently squeezes Crowley’s arms where he’s pinning them. “I think I’d much rather open you up piece by piece if you’re amenable.” 

“ _ Hhhhhhyes _ okay.” 

It’s more than okay. It’s incredibly okay. In fact it’s rather what he imagined something like this with Aziraphale would be like. Of course he’s had some dirty fantasies before in which it’s different. Where they just rip each other’s clothes off or miracle them away to get skin on skin as quickly as possible. But there’s the loving and sappy bit of him that’s always wanted to take his time. To slowly and carefully peel each layer away, worshiping, kissing, licking, enjoying every inch revealed. Now, it’s a bit jarring, pulling a more conscious piece of himself forward. Past the instincts that scream to thrash and bite at the angel until he just snaps the clothes away and takes him with no fanfare. It’s what the demon-snake parts want, but not really what  _ he _ wants. 

Aziraphale smiles at him and begins to run a hand down his front, pressing heavily into his chest, now more than before since Crowley has something stable to his back. He arches up against the touch, whining as his back hardly leaves the sheets even with all of his straining. 

“Kiss?” He pleads shakily.

“Of course, my darling.” The angel doesn’t lose time as he leans down to press an aggravatingly chaste kiss against Crowley’s lips, but he can’t be too upset as the angel pushes his blazer over his shoulders before pulling back. “Such a good boy, asking for what he wants. Now, up a bit, lovely.”

Crowley makes a little noise, hips jerking at the praise and quickly does as asked. There’s no strength to his core at this point and Aziraphale is absolutely doing everything. Dropping his jacket to the floor and pushing a hand up under his shirt and pressing in between his shoulder blades before rucking it up under his arms. Crowley bends and molds to his will, letting his arms be lifted so that his shirt can be slipped off and discarded with his blazer.

Even after the layers are shed he still feels terribly hot, even more so where Aziraphale’s hands are pressing into his skin proper. He’s let gently back onto the bed and Aziraphale leans back, his eyes roving over the newly bared skin. 

“Oh, you’re absolutely gorgeous aren’t you?”

Crowley squirms and looks away, sucking in a breath through his teeth as reverent fingers run slowly from his neck down to the waistline of his jeans. They hook under just slightly and give a little tug that makes his hips jump before moving back up.

“And terribly sensitive too. I suppose that’s a side effect of the heat, hm?” Crowley whimpers as the angel’s thumbs circle around and rub over his nipples. Pressing the hard peaks down before lightly dragging the pads of his fingers back over the delicate skin. “You’ll tell me if it’s too much won’t you, dear?”

“ _ Hhnnnnghh _ -” 

He struggles to keep his eyes open as Aziraphale smiles down at him. 

“Green, yes.” He pushes out and if he thought he was breathless before, seeing Aziraphale beaming down at him whilst still playing over his skin really takes the air out of his lungs.

“Lovely.” And then Aziraphale is dropping down and kissing against his neck. Deep wet kisses that devolve into sucking and biting. 

He moans and his hands find white-blonde hair to slide into. He doesn’t really push or pull, but just holds on for dear life. He’s writhing against the sheets, only held in place by the angel’s hands and lowering bulk over his stomach. Aziraphale lets out something like a growl as he pulls away, letting some skin slip slowly through his teeth. 

“You’re going to look so beautiful with a necklace of my bites.” 

“ _ Angel _ , fuck.”

“It’s alright, my darling. In due time.”

Crowley groans and lets his head fall back, stretching his neck into an arch. Aziraphale seems to take it as an invitation and soon licks and kisses and bites are being littered back over the column of his throat, making new marks and going back over the others. He breathes out harsh breaths and pushes his fingers against the Aziraphale’s scalp in a mockery of an erratic massage. The heat continues to ramp up. He’s scalding, burning from the inside out. His mouth is over producing spit and his thighs feel hot and sticky as he rubs them together from where they’re trapped between the angel’s thick thighs. 

“Mmmm-more.” 

There’s a harsh bite to the base of his neck and he lets out a deep, rumbling moan.

“More?” Aziraphale asks against his skin.

Crowley lets out a sound caught between a moan and a sob and nods his head violently. 

The angel laughs. “Alright, my own.”

Crowley lets out a high pitched noise at the endearment and tugs lightly at the platinum curls around his fingers. 

“ _ Please. _ ” 

That seems to do it as there’s a new pressure at his waist, undoing the button at the front of his jeans and tugging down the zipper faster than Crowley could have ever done himself- this is putting aside the fact that Crowley has only ever undone his jeans maybe twice and has miracled them off every other time. He knows it’s silly that he makes a noise of complaint when Aziraphale moves back so that he can begin to yank the trousers down, but he can’t help it. He gets a kiss pressed to his stomach for his troubles. 

It takes some less than fun pulling and kicking to get the jeans off, but ultimately they’re discarded with his other clothes and he’s left in nothing but a tight pair of briefs. He can feel that there’s a wet spot on them, and fruitlessly tries to press his legs together to hide it. It’s also about them that he realises this effort may not be the one that Aziraphale is expecting, though the angel seems undisconcerted as he moves back up Crowley’s body. A little pink tongue flicks out over kiss swollen lips and Crowley swallows. 

“I can-” He starts, and his voice is raspy so he swallows again and the gives it another go, “I can change it..if you...want.”

Aziraphale blinks at him a couple of times and if he weren’t already blushing all the way up to his ears and down his chest he’s sure he would have gone red with embarrassment. 

“Change?”

He squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a huff of air. “M’thing.”

“Crowley, you’re going to have to give me a bit more than that, darling. Is everything green?”

“Yes! No, I-” He lifts a hand to run through his own hair and draws in a deep breath through his nose. He should have just left his cock be. Yes, it was more obvious and somewhat more difficult to deal with, but he’s fairly sure Aziraphale would have been comfortable with that particular set of equipment. “My ngh- my cunt.” 

Aziraphale hums, though it has a questioning up-note to it as though saying,  _ yes, what about it? _

“I can change it, f’y’want.” He mumbles, still squirming in place, but of enough mind to not continue pushing bodily upwards. 

“Oh, lovely...” Gentle kisses are pressed to his abdomen, chest, neck and then both cheeks before pulling back and hovering until Crowley opens his eyes. Baby blues look at him with something so close to love that Crowley has to really fight not to cry with all of the hormones going on. “I don’t care what you have down there, if anything at all. Whatever it is, its you. That’s all that matters to me. If you’d like to change it, you’re welcome to.”

Crowley gives a little sniffle and has to turn his head into the pillow for a moment. 

“S’easier with this one.”

“This one it is then.” Aziraphale confirms softly. A thumb traces over his cheek and he closes his eyes and lets the wave of emotion pass and then ultimately be dissolved by desire again. “Would you like to continue?” The angel asks as though sensing the shift.

He takes in a long breath and then slowly blows it out before turning back to look at Aziraphale. 

“Take me, please angel.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be gentle I haven't written anything like this before, but I'm having fun with it.  
> This chapter has a bit more length than the others, this may be a trend for the next couple as I don't want to split up the spice too much but still want to keep it in easy pieces- so, we'll see.


	10. Chapter 10

Aziraphale sucks in a little breath, and closes his eyes for a moment. Crowley can’t help but shudder at thinking he’s just made his angel lose it enough to have to recentre himself so visibly. 

“Please.” He whines, gently pressing upwards with his chest. 

Stormy blue eyes flutter open and Crowley only gets to see them properly for a moment before his mouth is claimed roughly. His moan is swallowed by Aziraphale as a tongue slips in his mouth. He arches up again and doesn’t even have the mind to jump when he’s suddenly and forcibly pushed down. His body and instincts revel in it, and his tongue flicks against Aziraphale’s creating a high on their mixing pheromones. 

There’s a muffled high noise as a hand appears high up on his thigh, hiking it up slightly and settling just beneath his ass with a firm squeeze. He luxuriates in the pressure and pulls back to slam his head into the pillow as Aziraphale slots a leg in-between his own and presses up into Crowley’s heated core. His starched pants no doubt getting wet as they rub against him. That just has a new facet of arousal thrumming through him, the fact that he’s completely naked and vulnerable while Aziraphale is still completely clothed. 

“ _ Hah _ -Aziraphale.” He breathes, mouth hanging open as he can do nothing but feel the pleasure beginning to build through him. 

“That’s it darling.” Aziraphale pushes up against him more firmly and plasters their bodies together, making Crowley hiss as his vest rasps over Crowley’s nipples. “Just let go.”

He kisses Crowley again, licking along the roof of his mouth, rubbing against his tongue. Crowley his moaning uncontrollably into his mouth, nearly one long moan as they string together. Aziraphale swallows them greedily. 

The angel pulls back and spit connects their mouths. It’s messy and obscene, and it goes straight to Crowley’s cunt, making it clench around nothing again and again as it throbs and pulses against Aziraphale’s leg. He’s already so close, just from a bit of grinding and kissing. So, so close. 

“Let go for me.” Aziraphale whispers against his lips and Crowley just loses it. He arches hard and tips his head back, letting out a little yell as everything crests. It’s intense, it’s always more intense during these episodes, but this is something else. This is an orgasm x10. This is an Orgasm with the person he loves. This is an orgasm with Aziraphale. 

Everything goes fuzzy for a little bit, and he knows that he’s breathing heavily, but he feels like he’s floating. As he comes back to himself he feels strong arms wrapped around him, holding him up and supporting him in the odd bridged position he’d gotten himself into. There are gentle kisses being pressed into his neck and under his chin.

He lets out a small grunt.

“Back in the world of the living, my dear?” The angel asks with a smile in his voice.

“Nguh.”

“Mmmm, that was beautiful. Are you feeling better?”

Crowley just lets out a high whine and tries to get his body to cooperate some. Aziraphale gently lets him down to the bed and Crowley lifts his head to blink blearily at him. He squirms against the sheet, already missing the contact between their bodies even with the barrier of clothing there. The heat has abated some, more so than it usually does with his first orgasm, but it’s still a constant. He knows that it will just slowly build again. 

Aziraphale lightly brushes the hair away from where it's gotten stuck to his forehead. Crowley rubs his thighs together and huffs at the sensitivity. It’s only just as he’s doing this that he brushes against what is unmistakably an erection above him. The air leaves his lungs in a woosh and his mouth falls open. It’s a mixture of surprise and unbearable arousal. 

“You-you’re-” He tries, his voice rough and gravely. 

“Shhh. Don’t worry about me, Crowley. I’m here to take care of you. Not myself.”

Crowley makes a noise in the back of his throat. 

“But I want...I want to...you…”

Blue eyes widen a bit and search his farce. Crowley wonders how exactly Aziraphale could have missed that Crowley is both arse over tit for him and incredibly attracted to him in every way possible. 

“Can I get you off, please angel?” He all but begs. “Please, I’ll be so good.” He tries, and it feels like the right thing to say, the right way to plead, it sends shivers down his spine, especially at how Aziraphale’s eyes visibly darken.

“I know you will be.” Crowley whimpers when Aziraphale starts to sit up, pulling away from where he’s been hovering above Crowley’s prone body. He’s easily pacified by a gentle shushing and the sight of Aziraphale beginning to strip himself. 

He’s quick and efficient. Working with the practiced hands of a man that’s been taking off the same clothes for the last century, the layers come away quickly and are folded and deposited neatly on the floor. Probably on top of his own clothes, but he’s much more concerned with the chest and stomach being revealed to him. There’s a patch of white-blonde hair that shines in the light and Crowley’s hand moves up before he even notices and he catches it just before he’s touching. Aziraphale folds his shirt up, drops it over the edge of the bed and then looks at Crowley before pulling the lingering hand onto his skin. Crowley lets out a forceful puff of air and spreads his fingers wide. They push through the coarse hair there and he can feel the angel’s hammering pulse against his palm.

“Angel.” He breathes.

Aziraphale guides his hand down slowly, tailing over the swell of his stomach and down to the bulge in his trousers. Crowley moans just from the feeling of it, his hips hitching in response. Aziraphale lets out an audible breath through his nose as Crowley adds pressure.

“Please please please please please-” He starts babbling, not sure exactly what for, just knowing that it’s what he had to say. At any rate it spurs Aziraphale into motion perfectly. Within moments his trousers are gone and Crowley is privy to a growing wet spot on his underwear. Something goes haywire in his brain. Suddenly it's all,  _ need need need need need need _ \- so forcefully he’s just gagging for it. 

He scrambles to his knees before pawing uselessly at the waistband of the blonde’s pants. Aziraphle shushes him and then a hand is in his hair, tugging it gently to pull him back. He whimpers and allows the movement to tilt him back to sit on his heels. 

“Colour?” Aziraphale asks. His voice is still strong and clear and Crowley whimpers again.

“Green.”

“Good boy.” 

He leans back into the hand pulling on him and bites down on his lip. He’s not sure if he’s happy with how much power those words hold over him, but he’s also not going to complain. In fact he’s enjoying it- the hand pulls gently again -okay he’s  _ really _ enjoying it. 

“Stay.” Aziraphale orders, and Crowley doesn’t even move his head from it’s tipped back state when the hand leaves his hair. He squirms when he feels Aziraphale move, knowing that he’s removing the last piece of clothing on his person, but not being able to see. It’s a divine sort of torture.

Large hands slide up his thighs and he begins to shake between holding the slightly arched posture and the tactile brush along his skin. They stop at his hips for a second, digging in the divots there and making him arch more, before climbing up his stomach and ribs until they finally reach his neck. 

“Look at me, darling.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crowley gets his first taste of relief, and gets to see the angel out of his clothes. Altogether a good time.


	11. Chapter 11

Crowley can’t comply quickly enough. His head whips up but his eyes stick on Aziraphale’s face. It’s full of desire yes, but there’s also such plain affection there that it catches him off guard and keeps his gaze from traveling down, even though in part they desperately want to. 

His eyes are owlishly big as they just stare and stare. Aziraphale’s face breaks into a wide smile. 

“You’re so beautiful, my dear.”

“Ngh-I-” Crowley staggers over his words for a bit before surging forward to kiss the angel. He’s careful to keep his hands to himself as he’s not yet been told that he can touch, but puts everything he has into the kiss. 

Aziraphale moans into his mouth and Crowley swallows the noise greedily. They’re not very coordinated, and spit is definitely dripping down from the corner of his mouth but for some reason that gets him even more hot. Unfortunately, it’s not very long before Aziraphale is pulling away, using the hands at his neck to keep him from swaying back forward into another kiss. 

“I should like it very much if you would touch me now, darling.” There’s a slight lilt at the end, enough that it could be considered a question if need be. 

Crowley’s breath catches and he nods enthusiastically. He pulls back slightly to sit back between his calves, leaning forward to nuzzle into the plush belly in front of him. The angel’s skin is so soft and warm and something in him does a mixture of a hiss and a purr at the feeling of it. He lays his forehead there and looks down, drawing in a sharp breath at the sight of Aziraphale’s erection straining up towards him. 

There are hands in his hair, gently petting and holding him in the place he’s chosen and he bites his lip as he reverently draws a finger up the side of the flushed dick. It’s wet at the tip, beading with moisture, and the quiet moan that Aziraphale lets out rumbles through the both of them. 

“Ah, Angel...can I…?”

“Can you what, Crowley?”

He lets out a shaky breath, still gently caressing the cock at his fingertips, and presses his entire face into Aziraphale’s stomach.

His arousal is bubbling up again, already molten hot despite some sensitivity. Yet, as unbelievably horny as he is there’s enough sense in him to have trouble saying what he wants. It’s more than frustrating, but he can’t be completely upset because at least it means that he’s not a fully sex crazed monster. 

“Can I suck you?” He asks, muffled against skin. It’s not actually something that he’s done before, if one is not counting himself- but that’s a whole other barrel of monkeys. Despite that, there’s something in him that desperately wants to taste. 

The hands in his hair tighten and he lets out a small noise at the increased pressure. It’s wonderful and terrible at the same time, as he has nothing to rub up against now and his hips jerk uselessly in the air above the mattress. He wouldn’t be surprised if he’s dripped down onto the sheets now though.

“Yes, my dear. I think I’d rather like that, but let’s move from this position shall we?” The angel’s voice shakes slightly as he speaks and something prideful washes through Crowley, though he wines fairly pitifully when Aziraphale pulls away from him. 

He’s shushed and bends willingly as Aziraphale moves to sit himself up against the head of the bed, and pulls Crowley gently in-between his legs. There’s a beautiful flush on Aziraphale’s face and chest, and Crowley nuzzles back into that plush tummy and shivers at the feeling of the angel’s erecting nudging his chest. He slowly places his hands on the thighs encasing him, waiting to see if he’ll be told not to before squeezing meaty handfuls. Crowley groans into the skin beneath him. 

He finally scooches downwards, giving himself a little grind into the mattress as he settles into the new position. A less than human shaped tongue flicks out as he breathes in deeply, floating a bit on the intensity of the pheromones just here. He slowly inches forward, letting his instincts guide him and gently nudges the cock with his nose, eyes flicking up at the sharp intake of breath. 

They lock eyes as Crowley gives a tentative lick to the shaft. He’s surprised to find that it doesn’t taste much like anything and goes in again, but this time with focus on the tip where another bead of precum is threatening to spill over. There’s a short pause where he considers the sight of the flushed head before he laps the liquid up with his tongue, and this time is pleasantly surprised at the light, salty-sweet taste. Aziraphale lets out a groan and his hips jump, smearing the mixture of his own wetness and a bit of Crowley’s spit over his cheek. 

Crowley smiles up at him and licks his lips, before moving whip quick, shifting to gently hold Aziraphale’s prick steady, he envelopes the tip with his mouth. Aziraphale’s hands clench into the sheets and his hips kick up, but this time Crowley is prepared as the hefty cock slides further in his mouth. He tries his best to cover his teeth with his lips and cradles the solid length with his tongue. It’s hot and heavy and pulses against him and his body thrills at it all.

He slowly slides further down and runs his tongue along a prominent vein he can feel, grinding into the bed when Aziraphale lets out clear and loud moans. It lights his nerves on fire and he begins to suck, moving slowing up and down just over half of the length. It’s a lot in his mouth already, thick and heady. He moans, eyes hooded, only for them to pop back open when the angel bucks up again, this time shoving his cock deep enough into Crowley’s mouth to hit the back of his throat. Crowley gags a bit, eyes watering.

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry!”

Suddenly he’s being pulled up, a thick string of spit connecting him to Aziraphale’s dick. His tongue hangs out for a moment, mouth open as though waiting to be filled again and Aziraphale swallows heavily before continuing to pull him up over his body. Crowley finally closes his mouth, licking his lips and chasing the feeling.

“S’okay, Angel.” He says softly, voice a bit rough. 

Crowley shifts and spreads his legs to accommodate the girth of Aziraphale’s body, settling down until they’re pressed together again, sitting back into the lap beneath him. The angel’s warmth seeps through him, warming him to his bones. A hum rumbles through him and he leans forward, fully prepared for a kiss, only to have his face delicately framed, and for thumbs to gently wipe away the tears that had gathered. 

“There you are my darling boy.” 

Crowley shudders and lets out a tiny whimper. 

The smile on Aziraphale’s face takes on a devious edge and now it’s Crowley’s turn to swallow.

“My beautiful, good boy.” He says, at a slightly lower tone and Crowley sinks down more until his knees slip out and he’s left completely dependent on Aziraphale’s legs. Something sticks in his throat as the angel’s cock slides up along his arse, nestling in and poking at the base of his spine. 

“F-fuck.”

“Patience, lovely.” Aziraphale drops a hand to spread out over the small of his back, pulling him in and tilting his head with his other hand before beginning to press chaste kisses along his jaw and down to his neck before coming up next to his ear. “You can be patient for me, can’t you, Crowley?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am realising that this may turn into something like marathon sex...potentially.  
> Though I figure that no one is going to be particularly upset if it does, yeah?  
> We'll see how this goes-  
> Depends on what will satiate this poor snake.


	12. Chapter 12

“Y-yes, angel.” 

“Good.” Another kiss just beneath his ear, and then a sucking bite against his neck. It’s enough to make him gasp and writhe.

“Yesss.” He hisses, swiveling his hips to give friction to the cock pressed against him. 

“Mm, you like being marked, my darling?” Aziraphale rumbles. Crowley can feel his smile as it stretches across his lips. It’s a wonderful feeling, both causing the smile and getting the physical presence of it burned into his skin. “You like me proving that you’re mine?”

He lets out a high wine moving his hands to grip tightly to the strong shoulders in front of him. His fingers kneed into the muscles there and he shudders at the flex of them against his fingertips. The room is filled with the sound of heavy breathing and the beautifully obscene wet sucking sounds of Aziraphale unlatching and re-latching onto different parts of his neck and down to his collarbones. 

The thought that his angel is marking him up proper, with the clear intention of it being an act of possession, has him writhing again. Struggling to get some kind of friction. It’s a fruitless act, his legs are spread too far and the thighs beneath him are too thick for any substantial contact to his cunt. Aziraphale doesn't seem to pay much heed to his squirming other than the odd hitch of his hips. Crowley lets a drawn out noise crawl from the back of his throat, it may be another wine, or maybe a whimper, he’s not all that sure himself. 

In response he gets a sharper bite than the rest. Teeth sink deep into his flesh and Crowley’s mouth drops open, his body freezing. It hurts, but hurts so good. There’s no doubt that the skin has been pierced. A tongue soothes over the spot lovingly. And that’s something to think about, isn’t it? There’s not enough of his brain available to think on it really, and he’s glad for that. The last thing he needs now is to be overthinking the whole thing. His terrible over infatuation with the angel beneath him. It’s clear that maybe, perhaps, there’s something there beyond the obligation to help a friend, maybe, possibly, probably, maybe.

He’s pulled from the small recess of his mind still retaining the ability to overthink, by another sharp bite, this time just above his nipple. Crowley hisses and lets his head fall back, which leaves Aziraphale’s hand loosely trailing down his throat and he gulps as it adjusts to grip there. It’s still light, there’s no pressure, but it’s a possessive and suggestive hold. He presses into it and tilts his hips forward again. 

Aziraphale lets out a moan and breathes heavily against his chest.

“You’re beautiful, darling.” A kiss against flushed skin. “So, lovely and such beautiful reactions. I’m afraid I’ll never get my fill.” A scrape of the teeth against the same place. “I’ve always known you were addictive, but after this-” Crowley can’t help squirming at the words, and the angel cuts off with a hitched breath, hips pressing him up and in. “I’m never going to be able to let you go.”

Crowley curls forward, face and body burning as he looks down at the angel. 

“Don’t.” He says abruptly. “Don’t let me go.”

Blue eyes catch on his and hold. “No?”

Crowley suddenly can’t do anything but hold his breath and nod. Aziraphale’s arms move to circle around him, hands splayed broadly against his back, pressing him in tight. Aziraphale tilts his face up and they just share breath for a minute. There’s no thoughts, the arousal a thrumming, pulsing background, high and hot with a thick tension palpable between them. And then they just fall together, lips meeting as though they’re starving for each other. 

Their tongues slide together, and Crowley is vaguely aware that he’s shifting and gyrating against Aziraphale’s body, as well as letting out strings of noises that the angel swallows greedily. Something inside of him growls and hums happily at the voracious attention. Teeth gently nibble on his bottom lip and he lets out a properly loud moan, mouth dropping open. His lip is tugged just slightly away before a kiss is pressed to it on it’s own.

Crowley knows that his hands are gripping unforgivingly onto Aziraphale’s shoulders, but he doesn’t seem to mind if the press of his own fingers are anything to go by. He hopes to everything that they’ll leave more bruises. He wants to be covered in them, to have tangible proof of being owned by his angel, of having been had and loved. 

A garbled sort of squeak is ripped out of him when fingers brush against the lips of his vulva.

“Colour?” Aziraphale asks softly against his mouth.

“G-green.” He chokes out. “Please,  _ please _ green.”

Aziraphale’s lips turn up and he hums and he licks back into Crowley’s mouth. His breath chokes and stutters as fingers press up into him. Moving slow and gentle and hardly even dipping towards his entrance.

“You’re so very wet for me, my dear.” Crowley whimpers and grinds down, letting out a quiet cry when Aziraphale pulls away, moving with his body and refusing any deeper touches. “Just dripping, aren’t you?”

He lets out another noise, long, drawn out, and very desperate. Aziraphale had done that to him, of course. Likely would have even without taking him through one already extremely intense orgasm. Finally a finger trails down and back before slipping easily into him. He breathes out heavily, shaking slightly as it rubs over his walls, pressing and curling up into his g-spot. It’s not much, but it is enough to have his breath catch and hips twitch.

The angel just hums before gently rubbing against his hole with another finger.

“Please please please please please.” He begs, trying to stay still so that it won’t pull away. 

“You want another, my own?” The finger pushes in just a bit and Crowley keens. “Do you think you deserve one? Have you been good enough?”

Crowley looks down at the angel, eyes wide, amber from side to side. He’s unsure of how to answer that question. Of course he wants more, he’d do practically anything for it, but has he been good enough? That’s a question he doesn’t feel suited to even touch. If pressed he’d say he’s never good at all, but then he’s been getting off on being told he’s good so far so obviously there’s something more there then he’s ready to think about. 

Aziraphale seems to sense his hesitation and just smiles at him warmly and presses a kiss at the dip of his collar bone before just slipping another finger in without warning. Crowley gasps and clutches hard onto the muscles under his fingers. 

“You have, my own.” The fingers shift and scissor. “You’ve been so terribly good for me.”

Kisses trail up his neck and he tilts his head town so that they can continue up. It seems to be what Aziraphale wanted him to do as the kisses do, indeed, continue up to his lips. Aziraphale pulls the noises from his lips and into his own mouth, curling his fingers in a come hither motion until Crowley’s hips jerk violently. There’s a smile kissed into him and he can’t do anything but take it, not that he’d rather do anything else. It gets a bit hard to kiss back as things begin to build. The tension sticks and becomes heavy in his stomach, and his mouth drops open. Aziraphale bites his bottom lip gently, sucking it into his mouth as his hand tilts up and then there’s a thumb pressing into his clit and Crowley just loses it. 

He lets out a sound that’s part wail and part moan, and drops his hand to grasp at the angel’s wrist. Hips rolling and riding the fingers inside him. There are more kisses being pressed over his face and back down his neck and he just can’t he-

“Angel, please fuck me!” He sobs out, still moving himself quickly on Aziraphale’s fingers despite his plea. “Please, please. You said I’ve been good.” His mouth just keeps going, and he’s vaguely aware that there’s drool running down his mouth and a heavy flush trailing down in splotches over his arms and chest. “I’ll be even better! I’ll be so,  _ so _ good for you angel, please.” 

There are actual tears in his eyes at this point. He’s never cried whilst pleasuring himself before. It’s a new, sharp edge of desperation that there’s nothing to do with but let bubble up and rush out. 

“Oh, lovely,” The fingers pull away, wrist wiggling out of his own tight grip easily even as Crowley cries out at the loss. “You beg so beautifully, and I know you’ll be just perfect for me.”

Aziraphale’s hand glistens between their bodies and Crowley groans at the sight of it.

“Budge up, my dear.” He orders, moving to help Crowley lift up on shaky legs. His thighs tremble and he huffs in and out breaths of air as he tries to stay steady, though most of his weight is being held still by the angel beneath him. “There we are. Alright?”

He makes a little affirmative noise, unable to do any more than that, and slowly tracks the movement of the angel’s slick-wet hand moving to grasp and pump his own cock. Crowley outright moans.

“You’re so ready for me aren’t you? Ready to be filled up and given pleasure until you can hardly move.”

Crowley just nods enthusiastically and tries to reach down himself to help only to be slapped away.

“Keep your hands on my shoulders.” It’s a quick and steady command that has his hands flying to rest where they’re told. “You may wrap them around my neck if you need to, but you’re not to touch yourself, understood?”

He starts to nod again.

“Aloud please, Crowley.” 

“Yes, angel.” He says quickly.

“Good boy.”

And then there’s the hot tip of Aziraphale’s prick rubbing through his folds. Gathering slick and letting it coat his length before the blunt tip of him is pressing in against his hole. He whines low and long, the noise breaking as Aziraphale slowly pushes inside. It’s so different than anything else he’s ever had there or in his arse. It’s warm, pulsing with life, and thicker than he usually takes his toys, though that’s not a complaint. His brain starts to blank out as the angel pushes inside inch by inch until Crowley is settled fully in his lap. There’s some light fuzziness at the edges of his vision and he breathes out all of the air in his lungs in one solid woosh as Aziraphale moans upon bottoming out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *has never written smut before*  
> Also me: *jumps into it with this*
> 
> There's some thinking in here. Broken, harried thinking, but thinking none-the-less. He's not the only one thinking either, but that's for later. Right now-the horny.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Hallowen!   
> Enjoy a little treat-  
> Aziraphale and Crowley sure are...

They just sit for a moment. It’s maddening for Crowley. There was a mild thought that perhaps getting Aziraphale’s prick inside of him would have quelled the almost unbearable hunger that’s been growing in him. However, all that seems to have happened is that the gaping hole yawned wider at being given more. He tries to breathe through it, but he knows that he’s shaking, both with the effort of staying still and being good, and with pure need. 

Aziraphale breathes out wetly against his mouth, eyelids fluttering before pinning Crowley with a gaze that’s darker than before. His pupils are blown out a bit and the colour has melded into a stormy blue-grey. 

“You feel indescribably good, my own.” The comment makes him burn and he whines pitifully, but continues to stay still. “You fit me perfectly.”

Crowley lets out a shaky breath which is quickly punched out of him when Aziraphale grinds his hips up. It’s just a little bit of movement, but it rubs deeply into him. He lets out a moan and looks at the angel pleadingly. 

“Do you want me to move, darling?”

“Please, angel.” He breathes. 

“That’s my good boy.” Aziraphale says with a honey sweetness, hardly waiting for Crowley to even blush further from that before grabbing his hips and lifting him up, then pulling him back down.

Crowley’s breath stutters out of him, and he clenches tightly around the cock nestled in him. His breathing begins to pick up some pace. He squeezes his eyes shut and then mirrors it with his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders.

The angel sounds a bit strained when he speaks again, but it doesn’t take the solid and deep rumbling command out of what he says. “If you want more, you’ll open your eyes for me.” 

Crowley whimpers and squeezes his eyes closed tighter for a moment, unable to even think of opening them. There’s just so much sensation. If he’s moved again they’ll likely go to close all over again. The overwhelming feeling of being perfectly full with his angel. Goose flesh rises on his arms just thinking of it and he knows he’s clenched down some again based on Aziraphale’s small inhale. He takes a slow breath and then very slowly opens his eyes. 

The first thing that welcomes him is the look of pure hunger and adoration on Aziraphale’s face and his breath catches. He sways forward on instinct going for a kiss, and stops himself just before he gets there, unsure if he’s allowed. The angel smiles and meets him where he’s stopped. Their lips slide together into something chaste, gentle but passionate all the same. 

When they pull apart they just breathe against one another for a moment, enjoying the moment, the closeness, and the intimacy. Then Aziraphale is lifting him up again and pulling him back down. He begins a slow and steady rhythm. Crowley tries to keep his eyes open, his lids dropping to half mast as he gasps out little noises. It’s not enough, not hardly. He wants more, he wants hard and rough now, wants to be taken and claimed, but it’s not in his control. Aziraphale has power over everything, Crowley is hardly even bearing his own weight at this point and if that isn’t one of the hottest things he’s ever encountered he’ll eat his plants. 

“More, angel.” He asks after a few minutes of slow and even thrusts. It’s both too much and too little. The feeling is indescribable, but everything is screaming at him to get more. “Please, harder.”

Aziraphale lets out a noise that sounds something like a growl, and pulls him down tight, fingers pressing harshly into his hips bones. 

“I’m going to move us.” 

Crowley nods but still makes an unhappy noise when he’s pulled off of Aziraphale’s cock. He doesn’t have much time to mourn the loss before he’s being lifted and flipped onto his back. The angel hoists one of his legs up over his shoulder and presses the other up to his chest as he pushes back in. He arches hard and moans into the motion.

“ _ Ahhhh _ , Aziraphale-”

“Are you ready?”

He claws at Aziraphale’s back and tries to roll his hips up closer, but he’s held firm. 

“Yes, angel.” He confirms in little more than a whisper. 

Aziraphale starts off slow again, pulling nearly all the way out and then pushing back in all the way to the hilt. Crowley arches up into the movement and throws his head back. The rolling movement rocks their bodies and the bed beneath them. The burning heat inside of him blazes. That buzzing and blurring feeling in his head and hips. Suddenly he can’t think about anything but the way Aziraphale feels inside him, above him, his scent and warmth enveloping him. Everything jumps into a space he hasn’t quite been before. Not just the heightened to unbearable lust, but something in the more instinctual side. Something chanting,  _ mate mate mate mate mate _ .

“ _ Nn-uhh _ , angel!” Crowley moans out. He’s not sure that he’d be able to say anything aside from “angel” now. Maybe,  "more" and "harder" and "please" , anything at one word and less than three syllables. 

“My beautiful love. You’re gripping me so tightly, pulling me in.” He begins to pick up the pace a little, voice rough. “I’m going to give you everything you need, don’t worry.”

Crowley briefly thinks,  _ you’re everything I need _ , and then it’s quickly drowned out by the rapidly mounting thrusts. The monster inside him purrs happily as noises are forced out of him. Aziraphale is pinning him down and fucking him soundly. Obscene wet noises and the slap of skin on skin fill the room in conjunction to Crowley's voice and Aziraphale’s low moans and grunts. 

He grips into the angel’s back and tries to rock into the thrusts but he’s being held tightly. His clit is throbbing, in need of some sort of friction that he’s not going to get unless Aziraphale decides he should. Crowley groans just at the thought. He’s never come from penetration alone before, but with how he’s feeling right now it feels entirely possible. 

He hooks his other leg over Aziraphale’s shoulder to join the other, and presses down with his heels for some purchase. Aziraphale makes a noise and leans down into him, mouth dropping to his neck and laving his tongue there. Crowley’s brain goes haywire.

“Bite, bite bite.” He cries out, slurring his words some. “”Please please.”

There’s already a bruise forming where the angel bites down, he can feel the pressure on the already sore skin and lets out a long and low moan, mouth open and eyes rolling back at all of the sensations. Aziraphale gently kisses over the spot and breathes heavily against him.

“I’m close, darling.” Aziraphale groans out, his hips stuttering in their pace but keeping up their relentless barrage. 

Crowley whines, a low to high climbing noise. He’s also quickly approaching the edge, his body is alight on fire but also soothed in a way that makes him desperate even more. He tightens his grip around Aziraphale, squeezing where he can.

“In me.” He gasps.

Aziraphale groans above him, pressing in hard and faltering nearly to a stop. Crowley’s eyes flutter open and he looks at the angel’s face, panting heavily and golden eyes burning, pupils expanded widely. 

“Please.” He breathes out.

Aziraphale looks back at him with wide eyes, his own pupils expanded, and then he lets out a heavy breath and pressed Crowley down harder. His instincts cry out joyously. The heavy thrusts and grinding that follow aren’t as fast as before, but are just as forceful. Their hips rubbing together enough to stimulate his clit as well. He’s pushed up, folded in half, helpless to the angel above him. Even the thought makes him shudder. 

Aziraphale catches his mouth in a sloppy kiss. Neither of them can quite close their mouth’s and they’re rocking too much for it to be a proper kiss, but it’s perfect all the same. 

“Come for me darling.” Aziraphale says, thrusting and grinding in deep. “You’ve been so good, let me feel you come around me.”

“Fuck,  _ fuck _ !” He yells out as his orgasm suddenly tears through him. He clenches down hard, hips trying to jump but hardly being able to even do that. 

Crowley peters off into breathy noises, constricting hard with his whole body around Aziraphale. 

“Crowley-” The angel grinds his hips in a couple more times and then holds himself in as deep as he can go as he comes. His head drops and he breaths heavily against Crowley’s neck. 

Crowley continues holding onto him tightly, shaking just a bit but reveling in being covered, filled, claimed. With a break in the haze of arousal his feelings bubble up. He wants to card his hands through Aziraphale’s hair and whisper that he loves him. There’s no way to do this last of that without ruining everything so he settles for playing with the angel’s hair.

Aziraphale sighs and nuzzles into him. It’s good. It’s really, really good. Of course, part of the really good was the Earth shattering orgasm, but the nuzzling and holding is also very nice. 


	14. Chapter 14

After a handful of moments Crowley squirms a bit. He doesn’t mean to, and he’s not exactly uncomfortable, but he’s itching in that specific way again. Aziraphale misunderstands the motion and moves to pull out and away. Crowley holds onto him tightly. 

“No.” He lets out a heavy breath and turns his head into the pillow in embarrassment. “I- I need more, please.”

“Darling, you must be sensitive.” Aziraphale says with concern, pushing up enough that he can look down at Crowley who, in turn, tries to bury his face deeper into the pillow. 

He shakes his head a little. There is sensitivity and some minor soreness, yes. However, the heat won’t subside for that and does abate some of it in want of as much sexual gratification his body can get.

“It...It doesn’t stop that quickly,” Crowley lets out a frustrated huff, “It can last a few days to a week.” He chances a peek up at the angel. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh hush, Crowley. It’s okay.” He lifts a hand to gently tilt Crowley’s face back towards him. “There is nothing I would rather be doing...but how many times have you gone through this on your own?”

He blinks a couple of times before looking away and gently scratching his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair to help calm himself. 

“I don’t know?” He says with a clear level of uncertainty. “Maybe a couple hundred times? Couple thousand? I don’t really keep count. Don’t think I would want to.”

Aziraphale’s eyes are wide when he looks back up. “Oh my dear boy. I’m so sorry.”

Crowley shakes his head. “What? I-”

“I’m sorry you had to suffer alone,” The angel drops down and places a sweet kiss on his mouth, “but you won’t have to any more. I’ve got you now.” 

Aziraphale smiles at him warmly and Crowley feels the telltale prick of tears in his eyes, and just how many times is he going to cry in front of Aziraphale in the span of a few hours? He brushes his hands through the white blond hair again. There are things that he could say, things that he should say, but nothing comes out. Instead Crowley gently tugs the angel’s head back down for a kiss. It’s one that starts soft and gentle. Then slowly heating from just closed mouth presses to hot and wet passionate kisses where their tongues get involved, licking into each other's mouths. His breath begins to come faster and he moans unabashedly when Aziraphale starts rocking against him again. Not really thrusting, but just grinding deeply. His cock is half hard again and Crowley shudders between the sensation of being kissed, pushed into, and feeling Aziraphale’s prick slowly harden inside of him. 

“ _Hah_ -Aziraphale-” He breathes out, matching the angel’s movements back like waves in the ocean, rising and crashing together. 

“Tell me if it hurts. Are you still green?”

Crowley lets out a huff of a laugh. Trust his angel to remember their traffic light system even going into the second round of penetrative sex. It’s caring to an extent he’s not quite used to or ready for, and he pushes down the feelings that come with it to provide an affirmative. Aziraphale nods his head back shortly, seemingly already caught up enough that he’s beginning to lose some control. 

“So good for me.” He says in between breaths, nosing along Crowley’s cheek as he begins thrusting in earnest. 

There’s a loud and sloppy wet noise as he slides in and out, a mixture of Crowley's wetness and his own come. Crowley shudders and holds Aziraphale tight to him with his legs and the pressure from his heels. He moans rather loudly as the angel shifts to purposefully not thrust, but rather rub up against the bundle of nerves inside of him. 

“Angel,” He clenches down on purpose, letting out something of a hitching purr when it draws a moan out of Aziraphale, “I need more. Deeper.”

Aziraphale blows out a long breath and slows to a stop, pulling out and away to Crowley’s immense displeasure. He makes helpless grabbing motions, opening his legs enticingly wide in a way that doesn’t fail to draw the angel’s attention to his sopping entrance.

“Hands and knees.” Aziraphale orders with a bit more sharpness than he has before. 

“Mmh?” He mumbles, finally pushing up to look to where Aziraphale has now squared up, hovering with hungry eyes.

“Hands and knees, Crowley.” 

Crowley’s breath feels as though it’s punched out of him, and he scrambles to flip over. He’s shaky enough that he drops down to his forearms right away, though the angel doesn’t comment on it so it must be fine.

“Good boy.” Aziraphale rumbles, and just the praise is enough for Crowley the moan and let his head hang down. “So beautiful, just look at you.”

There’s a shifting behind him and he holds his breath in wait letting out a sharp noise when his hips are grabbed and pulled backwards. Aziraphale rubs his thumbs in circles at the dips of his hips before climbing slowly up his sides. The presence of him leaning forward over Crowley’s back, covering him where he’s vulnerable, is palpable. He presses kisses to the back of Crowley’s neck before making a few marks to match the ones around front. It doesn’t take long before Crowley is rocking back desperately, needing to be filled again. 

“ _Angel_ -”

“Shhh, my darling.” He says as he rubs his prick against the lips of Crowley’s vulva. Dragging it through the wetness and making Crowley moan and squirm with a heightening level of urgency. “I’ll give you what you need.”

He takes a proper fistful of Crowley’s hair and tugs it back with his body as he slides all the way in. Crowley chokes and bends his back into the bow Aziraphale has strung. His arse is higher up than the rest of his body but the bend has his chest hovering off of the bed, his arms hardly doing anything. 

“I’m going to be a bit rough darling, do I have a green for that?”

“Fuck, yes, green please, yes, fuck.” The words jumble together, but Aziraphale has had years of practice understanding Crowley at much less coherent points. 

When the angel said rough he meant rough and followed through on that. His thrusts are strong and focused, driving Crowley forward so that his torso touches the sheet with every forward dip. Crowley’s mouth is stuck in a permanently open position, noises streaming out and dripping from his lips as he just takes it. Something inside him rumbles with contentment. It’s perfect, it’s just what he needed. He wants it so much, he wants it all, and Aziraphale is giving it to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is kicking my but, but I said marathon sex and that's what it's gonna be. An interesting break between everything. Oddly nice actually. Don't know how to feel or what to think about that, but here we are.


	15. Chapter 15

“Oh, Crowley.” Aziraphale groans out from above him. The sound of his voice mingling with the wet and slapping sounds has Crowley shuddering and shaking even more. 

“ _Mmmhuh-_ ” He can’t really get words out but the sound gets across the agreement of the sentiment there. The incredible feeling coursing through him. Each thrust is deep and fulfilling, rubbing up against his sweet spot nearly constantly. He’s so sensitive already that even if Aziraphale wasn’t hitting well and true it would still feel good, but this is above and beyond.

“So wet darling. My spend and your wetness are just gushing out of you. I wonder how much you could take, hm?” Aziraphale slows down, pulling almost all of the way out and then pushing back in forcefully enough that Crowley’s body jolts forward with each push. The movement pulls his hair even more and has him hissing out with the pleasure-pain of it. “You’re just gagging for it, I’m sure you would beg me to give it to you. My cock, my spend, wouldn’t you, my dear?”

Crowley just lets out a long moan in response, grabbing great handfuls of the sheets and trying to rock back into Aziraphale, though he can hardly do much more than squirm uselessly between the weakness in his limbs and the strong hold the angel has on him. Hearing Aziraphale say such dirty things is certainly making the still functioning parts of his mind short circuit. His instinctual hind brain roars and has him clenching down on the prick moving in him, causing Aziraphale to grunt, and his hips to stutter some. 

The hand in his hair detangles itself to press down forcefully in-between his shoulder blades. Crowley’s face drops into the pillows and he groans into the fabric as his chest presses down into the mattress, somehow letting Aziraphale sink even deeper. With this pressure he’s once again completely pinned by the angel.

“ _Nuhhh-Aziraphhh-_ ” He moans into the pillow, biting down and sinking his elongated fangs into the plush material. The continuing noises are muffled as he’s thrusted into. 

“I want to hear you, darling.” Aziraphale breathes out, slowing nearly to a stop until Crowley mewls unhappily. “Let me hear you.”

He lets out a heavy breath against the fabric, unsure if he really has the ability to move. Crowley lets out a muffled grunt he hopes makes sense.

“Do you need help, dearest?”

He makes another noise, rubbing his face into the pillow in embarrassment, gnawing gently on it. Aziraphale’s arms slither underneath him, wrapping gently in a steady hold around his chest before hefting him up. The pillow lifts up with him, clenched tightly in his jaw, drops with a faint thump as his mouth opens wide around a moan at the shift in angle. Now he’s essentially lifted up into Aziraphale’s lap, relying completely on the pressure to his chest to hold him up as the head of Aziraphale’s prick rubs deeper against his walls.

“ _Ffffffuck_ …”

“Mmm.” The angel hums in his ear, leaning down to press a kiss to his shoulder. “You must have been made just for me.”

Crowley makes a small noise, choking in the back of his throat at the statement. 

“Your body just holds me so perfectly, you know. I fill you up just right don’t I, my own?”

Crowley’s head rolls back against the angel's shoulder and he keens in assent. He shifts Crowley around some before restarting up his thrusts. The fingers on his chest press in deep, ten fine points of solid pressure. 

“Angel, _angel_ -”

A hand slides down, pausing at his lower stomach before slowly following his happy trail down to his clit. Aziraphale’s fingers tease down and gather some of the ample wetness, taking a moment to trace the spot where they come together. Crowley cries out at the feeling, and squirms. He’s wholly unprepared for the feeling of direct and purposeful stimulation on the already sensitive bud of nerves. 

“That’s it, my dear.” The angel presses a kiss to his neck. “You make such beautiful sounds you know, and all for me.”

Crowley moans loud and long, his own hips jolting. Aziraphale smiles against his skin. 

“I’m not going to last much longer, Crowley.” Aziraphale breathes out, fingers making vicious circles on his clit that have his legs shaking uncontrollably. 

“ _Nugh_ -”

“Go on, darling. Why don’t you come for me? Squeeze tight around my cock-”

Crowley’s core tightens, breath coming in short and heavy pants, hand’s rocketing up to grab around the back of Aziraphale’s head as he comes very, very close to the edge. 

Aziraphale moans and begins pounding into him harder, pressing open mouthed kisses to his neck and he holds Crowley in place against the strong movements. 

“ _Ah-ah Azira-_ ” He’s riding down as much as possible now, so close that he can’t help but whine in anticipation.

“That’s it.” Aziraphale’s fingers press into his chest even more, enough so that he can feel bruises already forming there. “That’s it, let go for me.”

Crowley’s mouth opens up in a silent scream as he tumbles over the edge. His body is strung tight, shuddering and shivering through his orgasm. The angel’s thrusts slow down, as does the circling of his fingers, but neither stop as they work in tandem to extend his high as long as possible. It does seem to go on forever, stretching long enough that he begins to black out from the pleasure. That’s an entirely new thing for him, though far from unwelcome. After nearly a minute his body begins to relax and slacken, becoming nothing more than a dead weight. Aziraphale nearly slows his ministrations to a stop, but Crowley can feel that he hasn’t finished yet. 

“Keep…” He breathes out. His eyes have fluttered closed and his voice is barely there but he tries again. “Keep…”

Aziraphale seems to get the gist of it from that. “Are you sure, Crowley?”

He hums his assent wearily, letting out a sigh as Aziraphale’s hand pulls away from his throbbing clit to rest on his hip. 

“Tell me if it gets to be too much.”

He hums again. He’s much more sensitive than before, but it's not bad. Crowley’s certainly worked himself raw before during one of these episodes, so it’s not a new development, but he does have to say that it feels much better that it’s Aziraphale and not one of his toys. Aziraphale is also much more gentle than he tends to be with himself. Perhaps part of that was the largely unfulfilling nature of his orgasms alone, but it’s more likely mostly that it’s the love of his eternal life pumping into him rather than anything else. His angel, his mate. 

He lets out a huff of air at himself, something that turns into a small groan as Aziraphale squeezes his hip and grinds deeply into him. Crowley shouldn’t be thinking that way. It’s dangerous enough that they’re doing this. He doesn’t know if he could live through somehow accidentally revealing his feelings just because of his stupid snake brain. It would be devastating. It could ruin everything. He could ruin everything. He does ruin everything. 

His spiraling train of thought is derailed when Aziraphale bites down on his shoulder, clamping his jaws tightly enough that Crowley cries out and clenches tightly around him. That’s enough for the angel to finally spill in him again, which is another feeling that’s something new here, but surprisingly very pleasant. He lets out a small moan as more wetness drips from where they’re connected. Aziraphale lets out a muffled moan against his shoulder in an echo of his own. Crowley can’t help but smile at the sound and turn his head to give the angel a little nuzzle. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be something of a time skip soon. Marathon sex is not nearly as interesting if you detail every orgasm. That takes the fun out of it unless you're participating yourself I suppose.


	16. Chapter 16

Aziraphale turns his head slightly more into Crowley’s, joining in on the nuzzling. His stomach flutters and he has to bite down on his lip to keep himself in check. He’s only vaguely come back to himself, still surrounded by a light and airy drifting feeling. Their bodies are both heaving as they suck in air they don’t really need.

He’s still just floating when Aziraphale begins to rub gentle circles into the skin where he’s left bruises from his fingers. It’s a feeling that starts off as a dim awareness and slowly spreads comfortably through his body as they both come down and back to Earth. He tries to shift but finds that his limbs don’t really obey him, resulting in a sort of jelly legged shift that the angel has to steady him in. 

They don’t have to speak as Aziraphale starts to move them. He holds Crowley like something precious as he pulls out and lays him down on his front. Crowley slumps bonelessly into the sheets, grunting at the ensuing back rubs that he gets before Aziraphale shifts fully to lay next to him on the sheets himself. He turns his head and blearily blinks open his eyes just to see bright blue staring straight back at him. 

“Hello.” Aziraphale says softly.

He’s wet and sore and tired, but the thrum of arousal is dull enough that there’s no current urgency to it. Crowley blinks very intentionally, suddenly shy. The angel has literally just pulled out of his cunt for the second time, and here he is clamming up at a gentle look and soft hello. 

“Hey.” He returns after a few seconds, voice rasping. 

Aziraphale lifts up a hand, the movement very deliberate, allowing Crowley the chance to move away before settling down on his cheek, tucking the stray baby hairs behind his ear and caressing his face. His eyes flutter, and he sucks in a breath. 

“You’re...so beautiful.” 

Crowley swallows and tries for a light scoff. “I probably look wrecked.”

The angel smiles. “You do look mused, but seeing as I’ve done this to you, I quite like it.”

Crowley can feel the flush on his cheeks, luckily it was already probably quite prevalent so the change wasn’t likely to be noticeable. How was it that his angel was such a good dirty talker? No, not his angel. While he could certainly be classified as Aziraphale’s demon, calling the angel his in any way was a painful hope of something that couldn’t be, but this was more than he’d ever thought he’d get.

“You must be exhausted, darling. Do you think you could try and get some rest?”

Crowley makes a sort of shrug gesture. He’s never really tried sleeping during these episodes, but then again he’d never actually been anywhere near sated like this. 

He is exhausted, in fact, he usually sleeps for a week or so at the least after all of this. Crowley shifts against the sheets, subtly pressing in his hips to test just what level his need is at. The movement is enough to stimulate his swollen clit and he bites back a gasp. It’s a bit lessened, enough that he may be able to sleep but very much could still go again...and again...and again.

He’s preoccupied enough that he nearly misses Aziraphale’s tongue flicking out to wet his lips. 

“Perhaps one more?” The angel offers, and Crowley can’t help but choke into the pillow. 

“Ah, em, I- sure yes. That...okay.”

“Tell me if you don’t like anything, alright darling?”

“Mhm.” He buries his face back into the pillow,which is honestly a bit worse because now he’s blind to what’s happening. 

The first thing that he notices is the familiar tension and tang in the air following an angelic miracle. He’s about to lift his face to see when something presses in-between his legs. They’re still parted from where he landed and he’s so wet that the item presses easily into him. Crowley moans into the pillow at the feeling.

“This is a plug. It will keep you nice and full for me so that I can slip right in when you wake, and keep my seed inside of you.” 

Crowley swallows heavily, making a high keening noise as Aziraphale gently thrusts the toy in and out a couple of times, the bulbous shape rubbing against his g-spot in a terrible tease. He shuffles on his knees a bit to push his arse higher in the air and hopefully get some more of the plug in him. There are a couple more thrusts deliberately slow before it pops all the way in, settling into place. A hand runs soothingly down his back when he whines at that.

“Turn over now for me, lovely.” 

“Mmuh.” He grunts, body mostly leaden as he slowly tries to flip himself. The angel helps some, pressing a hand into his abdomen until he’s flat on his back, legs akimbo. 

“There you are.” Aziraphale smiles softly at him. The gentle voice and expression is quickly offset by fingers rubbing circles on his clit. He’s sensitive enough that just that motion has his hips jumping and head pressing back hard. 

“F-fuck.”

“Gorgeous, darling. Just look at you.”

He whimpers and hears a light laugh from below him. It’s a split second realisation before a tongue laves around the fingers.

“Ah-ahh, hah a-angel-” Crowley’s mouth falls open, losing his words very quickly as that tongue replaces the fingers completely. It swirls around and traces patterns that push punched out moans and whining syllables from his throat. 

With much effort he lifts his head back up enough to look down, only to lose all of the air in his lungs at the sight of Aziraphale essentially feasting on him, with brilliant blue eyes staring back up at him, devouring his expression as well. 

Crowley’s toes curl and he falls over the edge ridiculously quickly, though he can’t really be blamed, just being faced with that would be enough to bring a demon to his knees. Aziraphale swirls his tongue around a couple more times as Crowley’s legs shake, before pulling back slowly, a line of spit connecting him to Crowley’s vulva. 

“Now you should be able to sleep, I think.” 

“Nn-huh.”


	17. Chapter 17

He’s not sure when exactly he fell asleep, but in the next moment he’s blinking his eyes open. An embarrassing trail of drool is running into the pillow and he rubs his face there, moving to comb a hand through his hair only to find it held down by a heavy arm. His hips and lower abdomen burn nicely, twinged with the un-abating arousal. 

“Mmh?”

“Hm?” The arm squeezes around him briefly. “Go back to sleep, darling. I’m here.” Aziraphale says softly from beside him. His head is shifted and tucked more neatly into the angel’s neck. 

Crowley lets out a low noise, rumbling in his chest like a purr. A hand pets him gently and he’s able to push down that growing urgent feeling rising in his groin to snuggle in and let the darkness taking back over. 

He feels almost properly rested the next time that he comes to. His face is pressed into that warm neck crook and he’s draped and tangled over the angel. He can feel soft blonde hair tangled in his hand and warm breath ghosting over the side of his head and ear. He tightens his hand, scratching Aziraphale’s scalp lightly and snuffeling into his neck. 

“Hello, Crowley.”

He mumbles a hello into the skin at his lips, slowly mouthing there as well. It’s easy to worry at the soft skin. To take it between his teeth and suck. Aziraphale lets out a little noise between a hum and a moan. 

“Good morning to you too, darling.” 

Crowley hums himself, enjoying the feeling of the angel’s skin in his mouth, and trying to ignore the shifting of his own hips against Aziraphale’s leg. The arm draped over him moves until it can press a steady hand into his back. 

“Go on, take what you need my beautiful boy.” 

Crowley releases the skin in his mouth to breathe out a moan as he continues his movements. The movements jostle and rub the plug in him into his g-spot. It’s like a dream, and it very well could be. He’s holding his angel, entangled so comfortably and lovingly. The feeling of safety is immense, the gentle spell cast over them only disrupted through Crowley chasing completion of his arousal.

“ _ Angel _ .” He breathes out, grinding and humping as everything builds and his muscles can’t help but stutter and jump. He rides out the orgasm with the help of the hand on his back pushing him on. He moans unabashadely and buries his face into Aziraphale’s neck as his body shudders. 

“There we are.” Aziraphale soothes him, sliding his hand down to grab Crowley's arse and give it a squeeze, pressing his hips firmly into the angel’s side as he breathes through the aftershocks.

“‘Morning.” He finally says, slurring slightly. Aziraphale just lets out a hearty laugh and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 

“How are you feeling, my dear?”

“Mm good, yeah...you?”

“Quite well. I’ve gotten to read my book with a gorgeous being by my side, and had the pleasure to give him an orgasm today already.”

Crowley sputters incoherently, pressing his face deeper into the crook of Aziraphale’s neck. He lets the flush on his face cool some, calming himself down before pressing a gentle kiss to one of the small marks he’d made earlier. His angel sighs contentedly. 

They lay there like that for a while. Aziraphale continuing to read, his hand moving to gently and idly pet Crowley as he dozes comfortably. It’s something that he wishes he could have. To do this every day. It would be a true dream. The peace lasts much longer than he thought it would before he begins to start squirming uncomfortably. 

He faintly hears the sound of the book hitting the side table before he’s being turned onto his other side and pulled flush back against Aziraphale’s front. 

“I thought we would try a different position.” He begins kissing Crowley’s neck, biting back down on some of the lighter marks there. “Is that alright?”

“Yes, green.”

“Very good. Thank you, my own.” 

Fingers reach around to begin playing with his nipples. Rubbing around them in circles before delivering light pinches that have him arching his back. He finds that the position is perfect to rub against the hardening length behind him. There’s a rumbling sort of sound vibrating from Aziraphale’s chest into Crowley’s body. He’s already huffing out air and rubbing his thighs together, the cum on his legs had been cleaned at some point and the movement shifts the plug in him again, causing him to moan. 

“That’s it darling, make noises for me.”

Just the command has another moan ripping out of him, followed by some solid and embarrassing whimpering. The angel grinds into his ass, making a muffled noise against his neck as his prick slides between Crowley’s cheeks and presses tauntingly close to his cunt. 

“Wan’ more.” He mumbles, already sounding wrecked, heat flushing down his chest. There’s a particularly tight pinch to both his nipples and he yelps. 

“More?”

“Ah-yes! Please, angel!”

“What a good boy asking for it.” He sucks Crowley’s earlobe into his mouth and pulling on it in a light nip. Crowley shudders.

One of the hands toying with his chest slowly skims down his front, lightly dragging blunt nails all the way down to his clit which gets pinched. He yelps again, hips bucking forward at the feeling. As his hips cant, Aziraphale slips his hand down and toys with the plug, leaving Crowley gasping. Some warm liquid slips out and drips down the curve of his thigh. 

“Fuck, please.”

Aziraphale makes a quick switch, pulling out the plug and replacing it with his cock in one motion that punches the breath out of him. He can feel that it’s done much the same to Aziraphale with a push of air against his neck. 

“Oh, lovely. So wet.” 

Crowley mewls and manages to slur out, “your fault.”

The angel begins thrusting smoothly, pulling back until the head barely rests inside him and then pushing all the way back into the hilt. It’s as amazing and perfect as it was the last few times and he remembers Aziraphale’s command and allows himself to vocalise. Cum splashes out with the thrusting, and he’s not sure why that’s so hot to him, it’s certainly not something he’d ever thought of before and ought to be gross, but has him moaning and whimpering more instead. 

They rock and shift until Crowley can’t help but begin squeezing down his thighs and kicking his feet a bit. Aziraphale moans directly into his ear and that’s it for Crowley, having him clench down hard as his orgasm crests over him. Aziraphale isn’t far behind him, lifting up Crowley’s top leg and setting a punishing pace before his hips stutter to a stop and he fills Crowley up once again with his cum. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't tagged marathon sex for nothing.


	18. Chapter 18

They move through three or four different positions after that. Going at it with renewed fervor after Crowley becomes energetic enough to give as good as he got, and beg for what he wants in a way that has Aziraphale making low noises and pounding him mercilessly just the way he needs. By the time that the feeling dies down again they’re sweaty and messy and Crowley is even more full and wet than he was the first day. 

Their last round Aziraphale thrusts slowly, no rush to their movements as he presses kisses to the stinging bites on Crowley’s neck and chest. He murmurs sweet words and praises that actually have tears dripping down Crowley’s face. Aziraphale moves to kiss those away as well. It’s what he imagines making love would be like. This isn’t fucking, but that’s all it can be. The thought pushes a few more tears out. After they finish he dozes on his back, properly exhausted. 

His eyes flutter open at the feel of a warm flannel gently wiping at his abdomen, then over his thighs, cleaning up their mess there the human way. Crowley blinks at Aziraphale as the angel cleans him with a single minded focus he usually reserves for food or books. It makes his eyes burn again, but this time he violently blinks the feeling away. When the angel finishes he disappears for a moment supposedly to dispose of the flannel and comes back with some water and what looks like a small tray of cheeses and crackers.

“I think a nice break is in order.”

Crowley slowly pushes himself to sit up, leaning heavily back on the pillows and headboard. 

“No wine?”

Aziraphale laughs. “Water first.”

“You know we don’t need that.”

“Perhaps not physically, but I think it will do us both some good to have some anyway.”

Crowley just sits for a moment. Aziraphale is giving him proper human after care. Here comes the burning feeling in his eyes again, and that won’t do, so he staves it off by taking the offered water and nearly chugging half the glass. Funnily enough it does make him feel better. Perhaps there’s more to it than just hydration like the angel implied. 

They arrange themselves to sit side by side on the bed, snapping the sheets clean before Aziraphale spreads out a horrible tartan blanket as though they’re having something like an impromptu picnic. They don’t bother to dress and there’s something beautiful about Aziraphale eating cheese and crackers and reclining in the nude like a baroque painting. 

At some point Crowley stops snacking and just stares as he’s wont to do. Forgetting that he doesn’t have anything to cover his eyes. 

“You’re ogling, darling.”

Crowley startles and sputters. 

Aziraphale laughs, bright and lovely. 

“You’re beautiful.” He finally spits out.

Bright blue eyes stare unblinking at him for a few moments, before Aziraphale leans in to him and presses a kiss to his mouth. It’s soft and sweet and when they pull away they stay close enough that their breaths cascade over each other's lips. 

“I love you terribly, you know.”

Crowley dies. No, wait, he’s already dead, or still asleep. There’s no way that Aziraphale has just said that. His eyes burn again. This is the worst. He knows that his brain is mean to him at the best of times but this is beyond that. 

Crowley pulls away. “Don’t say that.”

Aziraphale’s brow furrows, and Crowley has to look off in the other direction, because there’s confusion and hurt on the angel’s face.

“What, Crowley-”

“You can’t say that. It’s not fair, I-” His voice catches on a sob that he doesn’t fully let out. He bites down on his tongue for a minute before steeling himself and bucking up. “I can’t take it.” 

“Crowley-”

“Please just wake me up or something, but don’t do this to me.”

“Wake you up?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“Darling, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A hand lands on Crowley’s shoulder and he flinches hard enough that it immediately pulls back. 

He whips around, fire flashing in his eyes. “Yes you do! Using these words against me won’t work. Not here. Not ever. I’m tired of being hurt by knowing I’ll never hear them from him. So why don’t you just piss off.”

That’s about the moment that expects things to dissolve, to become less real and for him to blink awake, either tired and sweaty in his bed alone the whole thing having been a good dream or possibly with Aziraphale, this new day having been the dream. It wouldn’t be unusual, he’s certainly had that kind of dream plenty of times before, with or without the help of his current problem. 

Instead everything remains terrifyingly solid. Something like understanding lights over Aziraphale’s face. Aziraphale, who hasn’t faded away. Aziraphale who is now reaching out slowly to him.

“Oh darling, I can assure you this is no dream, and you very well will be hearing those words from him.”

Crowley is stuck still, a mixture of shock and being overwhelmed. Everything is hot and not from the arousal. His body feels too big and too small at the same time. When the angel finally reaches him, pulling on his arms gently, he falls heavily into Aziraphale’s embrace.

“I love you, Crowley. I love you so much.” Aziraphale adjusts him until he’s cradled comfortably in the angel’s lap, one hand rubbing his back and the other brushing through his hair. “I shouldn’t have assumed that you knew that, and I certainly shouldn’t have sprung it on you like I did. You’ll have to forgive me for that, but please do know that it’s true.”

They stay like that for quite a while. Crowley doesn’t say anything, can’t really, he’s far too overwhelmed. He lets Aziraphale pet and soothe him, and as he comes to himself it slowly works to ground him. He goes from feeling nothing to feeling everything all at once and he sniffs rather hard into Aziraphale’s neck. 

“Shh, it’ll be okay, my love.”

Crowley sobs at the pet name.

“You love me.” His voice is small and hoarse. 

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Hmm, do you have the next millennia?”

The gentle play makes Crowley snort. If he thinks about it, it does make sense. Aziraphale loves him. Hearing him say it makes it easier to think. Aziraphale loves him. It’s like humans needing to breathe air. Of course Aziraphale loves him, how had he missed it?

“I love you too.”

“I know, my own, I know.”

Aziraphale probably knew the way that Crowley ought to have. Then again Crowley was not an angel so maybe it was a bit easier to see. Regardless suddenly it feels like a huge weight has lifted off of him. His world is still spinning a bit, things turned on their head. He’s probably going to need time to properly process, but this time is not that time. 

He huffs quietly, frustrated at his own body as he can’t help but begin to shift and squirm again. 

“Would you like to try and sleep this away or-”

The wonderful angel, _his_ wonderful angel, trying to give him space. Crowley moves around so that he can lean back enough to kiss Aziraphale. 

“Or, angel.”

Aziraphale smiles at him, placing a light kiss on his nose that has it crinkling up indignantly. 

“Are you sure?”

Crowley nods and tilts his head into another kiss. This one less chaste. It easily turns into something wet and hot. Crowley moves from his lightly cradled position to straddle Aziraphale’s lap. 

He stares into those blue eyes and wonders how he ever missed the love staring back at him. 

“I love you.” He says again before diving in for more kisses. Aziraphale says it back against his lips before slipping his tongue into Crowley's mouth, which he promptly sucks on, reveling in the moan that it pulls from the angel. A thought strikes him as they kiss, and he hiccups into Aziraphale’s mouth before pulling back enough to ask, “make love to me?”

“Oh darling,” Aziraphale kisses his entire face before trailing them up his jaw and to his ear, giving it a playful nip before speaking directly into his ear, “as though I would do anything else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they finally talk!  
> There isn't too much time to but they manage  
> Also some after care because they both deserve some of it proper.


	19. Chapter 19

The kisses feel different now that Crowley knows that Aziraphale loves him. It’s as though he can suddenly feel the love that was behind him this whole time. It’s a powerful force that would knock him to his knees if he weren’t already there. He tries to push his own love back into Aziraphale’s lips, licking into his mouth with a not entirely human tongue. They spend a good while kissing this time around. 

Aziraphale slowly reclines back until Crowley lays on top of him, the two of them rocking and grinding with intention. Though there’s a feeling of urgency bubbling up in him with the unabating arousal, he ignores it to the best of his abilities enjoying the unhurried movements and using the heady feeling of their bodies moving together to take the edge off. 

The angel’s leg presses up between Crowley’s and he swallows the moan that comes out of Crowley’s mouth at the new and welcome pressure. Aziraphale moves to squeeze his arse, controlling his movements, and  _ heaven _ that’s hot. Despite having just been cleaned there’s now a slick spot on Aziraphale’s leg where his cunt slips back and forth. Crowley moves his own leg up so that it pushes up against his angel’s prick. They’re slotted together as best as possible, likely looking a writhing mess, but it feels fantastic. 

It’s about then that the plate of crackers slides into Aziraphale’s side, making him pull away to look down. Crowley growls and glares daggers at the offending crackers. It’s a bit of a miracle they don’t spontaneously catch on fire. Aziraphale lets out a little laugh before snapping their picnic entirely away, which has Crowley smiling smugly as he’s won over the food. It’s certainly an accomplishment. 

“You’re unbearably cute, you know.”

Crowley’s head snacks back up. “I am a demon, I am  _ not _ cute.”

Aziraphale hums at him with a smile and then pulls Crowley down in a long drag against his leg, causing him to drop his head to the angel’s chest and mewl pitifully. 

“Mmm, certainly not, of course.” He can hear the bastard smirk in his angel’s voice.

Crowley just makes a muffled noise and bites down on Aziraphale’s soft pec with his pointed teeth. The angel sucks in a breath of air and digs his fingers down into Crowley’s arse, easily pressing delicious bruises there. He can’t do much else but squirm, loosing his control as the bubbling hot arousal courses through his veins. Aziraphale easily guides them back into their previous motion, this time pulling him up enough that their pelvises fit together as flush as they can, his cock fitting into the vee of Crowley’s hips. 

“ _ Shit _ . Angel.” He whines, breathing hotly into the skin beneath him. “Need you.”

“You’ve got me darling.”

Crowley growls and bites down over the bruising mark on the angel’s chest.

Aziraphale sucks in a breath before huffing out a laugh. 

Crowley claws at his shoulders until he gets a good grip and pulls them around, landing flat on his back with Aziraphale just on top of him. The angel blinks down before laughing again and leaning down for a kiss. For Crowley it’s a lovely opportunity to slither his tongue into the angel’s mouth and wrap his legs around that plush waist. Aziraphale’s cock easily slips along his folds and he gasps into the kiss, opening for the angel to push back into his mouth instead, licking deeply into him as he purposefully avoids moving. 

Crowley pushes his heels into the small of Aziraphale’s back, but it doesn’t shift the angel in the least. Of course the angel’s strength surpasses his own, at least certainly right now when his body is weaker. He gets a flash of a thought of the two of them fighting, not unlike the statue housed at the dark end of the hallway just a few walls away. It’s not an unattractive thought, perhaps he’ll have to propose a wrestle when he’s more back to normal. He’s easily jarred out of his aside, brain ripped back by the burning in his hips and the body on top of his own finally shifting. 

He writhes as Aziraphale’s cock-head nudges and slips up and down over his clit, his cock no doubt slick with Crowley’s wetness as it moves smoothly. The angel hums deeply above him, breathing hotly into his mouth as he continues the small rubbing movements. Crowley can hardly take the teasing, the heavy arousal too much. He moves a hand down between them and moves until Aziraphale’s prick is pressing against his entrance. The angel doesn’t stop him as he does so, in fact he keeps up his slow motion that has him pushing against him but not quite going in. 

His lip stings as Aziraphale bites down on it and pulls away. 

“Do you want my cock, love?”

Crowley whines loudly. “Please, angel,  _ please _ fuck me!”

“Hmm.” Blue eyes move to catch his own and Crowley hiccups. “No.”

“No?”

“I’m not going to fuck you.”

“Angel-” He nearly sobs.

“Crowley.” He’s quieted with another kiss, though this time more chaste. “I’m going to make love to you, darling.” 

Crowley sobs again, this time fully and unabashedly. Aziraphale presses gentle kisses all over his face, rocking more purposefully now until the way that Crowley is holding him has his cock just barely penetrates Crowley's hole. He gasps at the feeling of it popping in and out, his hand still circled around the rest of the shaft, letting Aziraphale lightly fuck in an out as he just pants into it. 

“You’re already so wet again darling.”

“Mmmhuh.”

The angel moves a hand to caress his side, running up lightly to trace his ribs. The feeling makes him shiver. His fingers slot between the bones there, lightly pressing and then slowly more and more before he no doubt leaves fingerprints there, Crowley arches into the feeling. The hand slowly skitters up again until those fingers can play with his nipple and Crowley arches again, harder this time, the twin sensations from his cunt and his chest setting his nerves alight. Crowley has to pull his hand away from Aziraphale’s prick to get a grip on his back in match with his other hand. 

“So beautiful, my Crowley.” 

With that Aziraphale finally slides all of the way inside of him, but stops when he’s fully sheathed. Crowley throws back his head at being so wonderfully full, and lets his mouth fall open when Aziraphale starts working on filling any unmarked spots on his neck and chest. 

“Please move.” He whimpers, clenching down in hopes of spurring the angel into motion. Aziraphale breathes out a sharp breath against his skin and his hips do jump, grinding deeply into Crowley. 

“I’ve got you, darling.” The angel whispers, hot and wet against his chest before surging up to claim his mouth as he starts rocking his hips. He greedily swallows up Crowley's moans, and Crowley ravenously swallows up his. His movements are much slower than any time before, they feel as though they strike forward to his core. 

“Oh, my love.” Aziraphale breathes against his lips, just hovering there. Their mouths are open, just brushing, each breathing heavily. It’s not quenching the endless thirst in the same way that the more rough and fast couplings had, but it satisfies something else, something much deeper and even more fulfilling. Each push feels like Aziraphale is pouring his love into him, filling his chest to bursting. 

“Love you.” He says. He sounds as absolutely physically and mentally wrecked as he’s sure he appears. 

“I love you too, my dear.” Aziraphale begins pulling nearly all the way out before pushing back in. It’s a long drag that presses against all the right places. Crowley’s caught with a perpetual whining and moaning sound, high pitched and varying with each forward thrust. “So very much.”

Crowley presses his hands into the angel’s shoulder blades, closing the small gap between them to claim his mouth in a messy kiss. It’s wet and uncoordinated, but it’s absolutely perfect. The hand on his chest gives a sharp pinch to his nipple before rubbing back down his side, tracing the dip of his hip bone, before finding its way between the upper part of his folds, gathering some slick before pressing circles into his clit. 

“Azi-phale-hh-”

Aziraphale claims his mouth kiss again, drinking him in and feeling not unlike he’s devouring Crowley whole. They establish a slow and steady rhythm, rocking and rubbing and breathing together. It’s a slow and building climb upwards, heat thrumming all through his body and every place they touch feeling like they become one. 

“Crowley.” Aziraphale begins saying his name into his mouth, and it sounds like a prayer, a blessing. Crowley shivers at the sound and the litany of praises that begin to follow it. 

His body starts to arch hard, hips jumping and legs shaking.

“Angel, angel, angel,” He repeats back, “love you, love you.”

He claws over already angry red marks on the angel’s back, something in his instincts rearing up with its heated head. 

“Mate, mine, mate  _ mate _ -”

Aziraphale makes a noise that Crowley can’t exactly place and then, “ _ Mine _ .”

He growls the word before leaning those few centimetres forward and biting down on Crowley’s bottom lip. That’s all that it takes, as close as he is. His mouth stays open in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as Aziraphale continues to thrust and rub his clit gently through it. 

“Oh-” Aziraphale’s hips begin to stutter, slamming in more forcefully and with little coordination. He pushes in one last time and holds himself deep as he jerks slightly, hand sliding off of Crowley’s clit to hold tightly onto his hip as he comes deep inside. Crowley lets out a choking noise at the feeling, still arched up high and holding on for dear life. 

It takes a moment, both of their orgasms seeming to last forever, before they both slowly relax down, Aziraphale all bit falling heavily on top of him. Crowley doesn’t mind, the heat and pressure are nice and comforting. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just feelings in this one, and a little well deserved talking.

Crowley lifts a hand to Aziraphale’s hair, gently brushing through the messy curls there. The angel hums into his neck and Crowley hums back. 

“I love you.” The phrase is muffled into his skin, but come across clearly none the less. 

Those three little words still make his heart clench. 

“I love you too.” He whispers, scratching at the scalp beneath his hand. 

Aziraphale slowly pushes up, hovering above him on slightly shaky arms. 

“How are you feeling, my darling?” He looks a bit wrecked himself. Hair standing up oddly and sticking to his face in others. His cheeks are still flushed, and there’s a fucked out glow to him. 

“Maybe I should be asking you that.” Crowley teases, letting his hand drop to the angels face, pushing away some of the sticky hairs. 

Aziraphale huffs out a laugh. “I’m feeling wonderful.”

“I am too.”

“How is…?” The blonde trails off, obviously unsure of what exactly to call his affliction despite them already giving a tentative name to it. 

“The heat?” Crowley tries. “Momentarily quieted I think. Usually it lasts…” He tries to think of how long they’ve been here, but can only remember the continued pleasure haze. “Maybe a day or so more, I’ve lost track.”

“Mm, time has certainly slipped away.” Aziraphale lowers down to press a short kiss to his mouth. “Though I can’t say I’m upset by it.” 

Crowley makes a noise in agreement at the back of his throat and tilts his head for another kiss. It’s chaste and full of emotion, a little press of lips that means so much more than just skin against skin. 

“Thank you.” He says, speaking quietly against Aziraphale’s lips. 

The angel pulls back, brows furrowed. “For what?”

“Telling me that…” He breathes out, “that you love me.”

A hand comes up to caress his face, another kiss pressed lightly against his lips, enough to be more of a fluttering brush than anything else, but portraying the intense feeling behind it none-the-less. 

“Don’t thank me for that. I should have done it before.” 

Crowley starts to shake his head by Aziraphale stills it where he’s cupping Crowley’s cheek. 

“In fact,” He can feel the flush rise to the angel’s cheeks as the blond suddenly seems a bit shy, despite, of course, still being seated deeply inside of him, “that’s actually what I was trying to tell you when we came back here a few nights ago.”

“You what?”

There’s an awkward and jolting laugh that shifts their over sensitised bodies enough to make them both wince. 

“I had built up the nerve to finally tell you, only that was at the point that I noticed you were more than a bit out of it. After that I got rather carried away, I think.”

Crowley can’t help but blink at him, taken aback.

“You were,” He makes a few faces, flitting through emotions, “going to confess to me?”

Aziraphale makes his own face and then looks sheepishly into his eyes.

There’s a few more moments of hanging silence before it’s abruptly broken by Crowley’s bubbling laughter. Aziraphale makes a little noise, whether it’s meant to be something incredulous or a sound in response to the feeling of Crowley clenching and jumping around his cock, he’s not sure. 

The laughter continues to come. Something about it feels light and freeing and he continues to laugh until tears come to his eyes and he slowly has to come down to settle and wipe them away. 

“That whole time I was worried about nothing.” He says, voice still light with mirth. 

“Oh darling, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s alright now.” He smiles and nuzzles into the hand that’s still resting on his face. 

Aziraphale looks unsure, but leans down to press a kiss to his lips, which quickly becomes many kisses, which continues on to become a face full of kisses. Little smacks all over that soon have him laughing again, heat rising to his cheeks as he playfully begins to push the angel away. 

“I suppose I’ll just have to make up for not saying it before.”

“Angel-”

“It’s no hardship, dearest. I’ve had to hold my tongue for quite a while now.” 

Crowley sputters. “A while?”

“Perhaps this is a better conversation had in a different position?” Aziraphale looks down at where they’re still joined and Crowley snorts. 

“Yeah, probably.” He uses a smirk to cover up the discomfort of Aziraphale pulling out and moving to the side. The angel snaps, miracling the mess away and leaving them dry and comfortable. 

Aziraphale lays next to him, propped up back on the pillows so that Crowley’s head lines up with his plush stomach. It’s easy enough to bridge the gap and sling his arm up and over until he’s holding onto the angel like an oversized stuffy. He presses his face into the soft skin there. The angel is warm, and Crowley unabashedly cuddles up to him. His demonic snake brain doing something of a pleased purr.

“I think I’ve known that I’ve felt something for you for a few centuries, but I’ve certainly actually felt it longer.” Crowley freezes in position, tensed and listening raptly. “I’ve known that I’ve loved you for a handful of decades now, but I also knew I couldn’t tell you.”

Crowley makes a noise in the vein of an understanding sort of grunt. 

“But I ought to have shown it more.”

Crowley grunts again, but this time more in dissent. 

“I didn’t realise it until far too late, but you’ve been showing me for a very long time.”

“‘ngel.” He murmurs.

“I’m so sorry for that, my love, and I plan to make it up to you.”

“Don’ ‘ave to.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”

He shakes his head against the angel’s skin, and is softly pet for his troubles. 

“I und’rst’nd why.”

“I’m glad you do, darling.” It very clearly sounds as though the angel doesn’t quite believe him. 

In response he makes noise and squeezes Aziraphale tightly. Saying something doesn’t seem like it would work right. He’s not great with words anyway. How can he explain that he gets the wariness. Understands being scared. Knows that there was a lot of pressure. Knows that Aziraphale is a born protector. True, he may not know exactly why Aziraphale wasn’t as...clear with his affections. He may even have been hurt by it, something that still will sit heavy in him for a long time. But he understands that it wasn’t out of malice, and that’s what counts, isn’t it?

“We probably need to talk some more about these things.”

Crowley just grumbles. He’s correct, but that doesn’t mean that Crowley has to like it. They’ve never been good at talking about anything personal. It’s one of the least likely things that they’re prone to do. In fact, they were and had been more likely to go on and stop the apocalypse rather than actually talk about anything between them. Hell, they’d been prepared to go to their deaths without ever having said anything about their true feelings to each other. Something roils in his stomach at that thought. 

Aziraphale breathes out a laugh, though it’s half hearted. He must be feeling something deep and sinking as well.

“Have to?” Crowley asks in a whiny plea.

“Yes, darling. I do think it’s rather important, don’t you.”

“Maybe.” He mumbles. Aziraphale can hear the clear affirmative in his tone. Thousands of years speaking to one another will make things like that easy to pick up, after all.

“I know it’s not...a particularly fun thing to speak on. Perhaps we could go about it in pieces over time?”

He hums, pauses a moment, and then places a gentle kiss on the angel’s side.

“Yeah,” He agrees, “but first I think we’ve got to get through the rest of this thing, yeah?”

“Hmm yes, that does seem the pressing matter. For now, we should get some rest while we can, we do get rather carried away in the moment, it would to to have enough energy to make it through a few more days.”

Crowley nods against him, already letting his eyes close and the warmth and softness of his angel, his mate, lulling him into a safe and comfortable drowsy state. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They actually do some more talking! Look at them. I mean it's still very stunted, but they're trying.


	21. Chapter 21

The next few days pass by in the same sort of blur, but now with a honey rose haze to everything. They make love with small breaks in between, drinking water, eating some food, and talking idly or resting until the heat in Crowley’s abdomen kicks up again too much to be ignored. This time though, they always start with sweet kisses, and Aziraphale always holds him first, pressing love into him through where their skin connects even if he continues on to be rough. Crowley loves it any way. Soft and sweet, slow and long, fast and hard, rough and pinned down, anything and everything.

Sometimes they snap to clean up the mess between them, and sometimes they leave it until wetness pushes out of Crowley with every thrust, filling the air with sinfully wet noises. They have no right being as arousing as they are. The plug also makes a recurrence at times, when either of them needs a break. Aziraphale is rather good with his hands and tongue and uses them quite thoroughly as well.

Crowley can tell when it’s the last day. Things are much more calm. The insistent burning has dulled to something that just swirls and sits there in the pit of his stomach. His cunt throbs as he lays there, just looking at his angel.  _ His  _ angel. It’s still a novelty. 

Aziraphale certainly looks the part of a proper angel, something that humans had developed in their minds eye, time and time again. Nude with creamy skin, sheets folded silkily around him. An ivory glow to his skin as he lazes on his side. The curls of his hair sit mused in an artfully messy way, shining in the light of day like an earthen halo. 

“Darling?” Aziraphale smiles at him. “You haven’t heard a word that I said, have you?”

“Um…” He coughs awkwardly and makes a little vague motion. “No?”

Aziraphale laughs, lightly and freely. 

“Sorry.” Crowley says sheepishly. 

Aziraphale shakes his head. “No, don’t worry, my love. It wasn’t important.”

“Anything you say is important.” 

“You’re only saying that because of the orgasms.”

Crowley laughs at this, his own freeing statement. 

“Guess you’ll just have to keep my endorphins up then, so I’ll keep agreeing with you.”

“Is that your way of asking for another?”

Crowley smirks, edging closer. “I wouldn’t say no, certainly.”

Aziraphale makes a low noise and reaches out to pull him in. 

“Then who would I be to deny you?”

They fall into a kiss, slow and deep, moving closer and closer until their bodies are pressed up against one another. Crowley pulls back slightly, their lips still brushing, foreheads leaning on one another. 

“I love you, angel.”

“I love you too, my own.”

Crowley can’t help the wide smile that spreads on his face before he moves back in. As the kiss gets more heated their bodies begin rolling against one another and Crowley begins squirming, grabbing onto the angel where he can. Aziraphale grabs at him himself, hands roaming over his skin until they sink down. The angel lifts his leg to sling over his hips and sinks his fingers into Crowley’s arse, pulling their pelvises together. Crowley gasps at the movement, hips bucking and pulling a moan out of Aziraphale’s mouth at the friction to his cock. He swallows that noise eagerly and starts undulating his hips, grinding his cunt as best he can against Aziraphale’s leg as well as giving more moving pressure to his prick. 

After quite a while of that Crowley pulls back breathlessly, both of them panting heavily. He licks his lips and slows their grind so that he can better feel the slick slide of Aziraphale's cock along his abdomen. His mouth waters some and he thinks back to the beginning of this whole thing. 

“Angel?” He tries, voice rough and deep. Aziraphale lets out a noise of acknowledgement, but is obviously preoccupied by trying to get as much friction as he can. “Can I suck you?”

There’s another noise, this time startled, before being followed with a groan. 

“Are you sure, darling?”

He nods. “Please let me.”

They stop moving against one another and just look at each other for a moment.

“Alright, my love.”

Crowley doesn’t waste any time, pushing at Aziraphale’s shoulder to get him to roll onto his back, and sitting on his hips. He presses a quick kiss to the angel’s mouth before readjusting. Aziraphale spreads his legs so that Crowley can kneel between them. He kisses down his mate’s neck, nipping at marks he’s already made, and then making his way down to his chest. He hasn’t spent too much time here before, and now since everything is a bit less urgent he’s able to give some proper attention to the swells of flesh there and the perky nipples. 

He laves around the little peaks and then closes his mouth and sucks, making a small purring noise when Aziraphale’s hands sink into his hair and hold him down. He stays there until the nipples are a bit red and puffy, and leaves them with a cheeky blow to the wet skin that makes the angel hiss. He looks up through his eyelashes and smirks before moving down again, worshiping the soft stomach beneath him. He kneads at the skin with his hands and places kisses and little nips where he can. It isn’t long before he arrives near Aziraphale’s hips, the wet tip of the angel’s prick hitting his chin.

He breathes out shakily before finally moving back, face to face with that beautiful cock. He hovers for a moment and then tentatively licks up the side, following a vein to the head until he can suck it into his mouth. The salty flavour blooms over his tongue and Crowley hums. Aziraphale moans loudly and the hands that were holding his hair tighten, and he can tell that Aziraphale is holding back from pushing him down further. He hums again and presses his tongue into the spot under the head that’s sensitive on his own cock, when he has one. The angel moans again and pulls on his hair, pulling an answering moan from Crowley.

He tries to swallow. The feeling is odd but it pulls a garbled noise from Aziraphale, so he does it again. He looks up, only to meet hazy blue eyes. A wave of bubbling heat travels through him and he sinks further down on Aziraphale’s cock, moving slowly enough to not make himself choke as it slides deeper into his mouth. It’s a new sort of weight and fullness in a new place, and he slowly moves until his angel’s prick hits the back of his throat. He gags just a bit and Aziraphale’s hips stutter, making him gag again. Crowley takes a little breath and adjusts, watching as the blonde throws his head back against the pillows and tightens the hands in his hair. 

There’s something that he likes about the movement in his mouth, especially as he begins bobbing up and down. It’s weird, of course. He’s never been one much for things in his mouth, aside from some good wine, but his angel is more than akin to a great vintage. Aziraphale’s hips give little stutters and jumps beneath where Crowley’s hands have settled and he makes a decision. He lifts a hand and places it over one of Aziraphale’s own and gives a little push. A messy blond topped head pops up from where it had been tipped back, wide blue eyes blinking at him. Crowley makes the pushing motion again.

“Are you sure, Crowley?” Aziraphale’s voice is gravelly and breaks halfway through the question. 

Crowley just pushes his hand again and keeps eye contact. 

“T-tap my thigh if you need me to stop.”

They stare at one another for a moment more before Crowley decides to very purposefully swallow. 

“ _ Fuck. _ ”

Crowley groans at the sound of the expletive and then promptly chokes as Aziraphale begins moving him and thrusting into his mouth. He’s able to get control of himself very quickly, and just relaxes into it, letting his eyes close and his head be moved. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some dick sucking redemption for Crowley, who's a very determined snake.
> 
> I have a new twitter where you can bug me [@TempusNoKitsune](https://twitter.com/TempusNoKitsune)


	22. Chapter 22

As Aziraphale continues to push and glide in his mouth he’s able to take him deeper and deeper until the angel’s cock begins to slide into his throat. He moans at the feeling of being so full like this, it’s something that’s somewhat uncomfortable but at the same time pleasant. Drool is escaping his mouth, especially as Aziraphale begins thrusting faster and faster, full on fucking his face. The feeling of it and of the angel so clearly losing control is incredibly arousing to him. 

“Crowley, I’m-”

Crowley opens his eyes, only now aware that he’s been tearing up some as blinking has the liquid escaping down his cheeks. His mate’s face is red and his eyes are dark as he looks down. Pink lips are parted, letting out heaving breaths, kiss bitten and wet. Crowley lets out a little moan and Aziraphale’s hips jolt, pressing him roughly down to the hilt. He gags briefly, more tears running down his face, but simply moans again. If his mouth wasn’t preoccupied he’d be smirking. 

“I-I’m going to come, darling.” Aziraphale exhales shakily, pulling up on his hair to lift him off of his cock, but Crowley resists. “Fuck.” Aziraphale says again. Crowley’s incredibly proud of himself for making his Angel swear so blatantly as many times as he has in this past...week?

He doubles down his efforts, not just letting Aziraphale fuck his face, but swallowing purpousfully and moaning unabashedly.

“Crowley Crowley CrowleyCrowley _ Crowley _ -” His name becomes a combined string of gibberish as Aziraphale’s pleasure crests and spills down Crowley’s throat.

There’s a rather lot of come but somehow Crowley manages to swallow nearly all of it just a small bit dribbling down the corner of his mouth as he slowly moves off of Aziraphale’s prick. He licks his lips and watches the angel’s heavy breathing. Crowley lays his head down on one plush thigh, just catching his own breath and staring.

“Was that good?” He finally asks, surprised by how rough his voice sounds but also pleasantly surprised by it. 

Aziraphale breathes out a laugh. 

“Darling it was better than good.” 

Crowley rubs his face into skin beneath his cheek. Aziraphale reaches down towards him, and Crowley slowly moves up until he’s draped over the angel. His mate’s prick is still hard and he can feel it sliding wetly against his mons. They both ignore it for the moment in favour of a cuddle. 

He tucks his head into Aziraphale’s neck and lets his body go slack. 

“‘M not crushing you am I?”

“Darling, you’re hardly 50 kilos soaking wet.”

Crowley blows a raspberry against the angel’s neck, causing him to let out some bubbling laughter. They just lay like that, the angel moving his arms to encircle Crowley’s body and pressing his warm hands in wide splays against his back. Crowley may drift off for a bit, but the angel doesn’t seem to mind, considering that when he blinks his eyes open again they haven’t moved at all. 

“Mmh, s’rry.”

The angel hums. “No worries darling, I was just enjoying holding you.”

That does a good job of waking him up and has him stammering and pushing up and away. Aziraphale chuckles at him and rubs a hand in soothing circles on his back. His cock has gone flaccid and Crowley has to fight a mild sense of disappointment.

“It’s over now,” the angel says softly, “isn’t it?”

Crowley gives a slow nod, face still hot. “Yeah, it is.”

“Is it odd to say that I’m both relieved and a bit sad?”

He shakes his head. “No.” They never would have gotten where they are now without it. Crowley would have never known what it felt like to have the smooth and warm slide of Aziraphale’s skin against his own. He would never have gotten the chance to press their lips together, to feel the wet and stretching glide of him inside his body, to have the weight of him pressing down or the bulk of him underneath Crowley’s own body. They would have not dived into their feelings headfirst at some point, revealing things that had been hanging heavily between them for millennia. However, he’s also tired and sore, and ready to have time to just be, without the constant instinctual drive taking over him. “I feel the same way.”

Crowley leans down for a kiss, nothing more than a short press of lips. 

“Maybe we could get you something to eat?” He asks, looking down into blue eyes that soften so much he’s afraid of falling in and getting lost in their quicksand. “I can make some mean eggs.”

Aziraphale’s body gives a little wiggle that spreads a smile on Crowley’s face.

“I could go for some eggs.”

It’s hard for them to move. It seems that they’re both still very hesitant to part, even though they’re no longer required to stay within close proximity. They both keep stealing little kisses, pulling one another back in, gently caressing bare skin as Crowley miracles up a black robe and pulls it tight around his waist, and Aziraphale goes on to dress up to his vest. 

His kitchen is already pretty well stocked with eggs, but most of them have been boiled for the eating binge he never really properly got to go in. He snaps up some more raw ones, along with some vegetables, meats and cheeses and sets to work. Crowley hasn’t done a whole lot with food, but he’s picked up some from a couple of humans and is a rather quick learner as well. The meals that he knows are more related to things that you would feed sick individuals. Soups, some bland meals, basic chicken, eggs, things like that. But how hard could something like an omelet be? 

Aziraphale sits at the small breakfast bar and watches him with a fond fascination, tracking him as he moves back and forth along the range and countertop. It’s a bit surprising to him that the snake inside doesn’t protest at being watched from behind, but rather revels in being a good mate. It makes him feel stupid, and he can feel his face heating. He tells himself it’s just the fire, but it’s hard to lie when it’s such a flimsy excuse. 

It turns out that omelets are, in fact, quite easy to fix. It’s a bit rough looking, nothing perfect and smooth and he may have overstuffed it, but the angel looks elated so he counts it as a win. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the heat is over!  
> Have some domesticity as a treat.


End file.
